Reincarnation
by EccentrikPirate
Summary: Complete. In 2007 the reincarnation of Elizabeth Turner is plagued by nightmares of memories long forgotten. Unfortunatly some things never changed and she is kidnapped by Pirates on the hunt for a mysterious key, and the infamous Pirate King.WE
1. Where is the ThumpThump?

Attention! To brush up for my sequel fic Resurrection I acutally went back and read Reincarnation, and found quite a bit of mistakes throughout it. The ones in this chapter (whether anyone else noticed them or not) were bugging me so bad I had to repost it corrected. Maybe I'll go through and do this for the whole story later, but for now I present to you Chapter 1 revised.

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Summary: In the year 2007 the reincarnation of Elizabeth Turner is plagued by nightmares of memories long forgotten. The Captain of the Flying Dutchman still mourns the loss of his only love, and another certain Captain is no where to be found. Unfortunatly some things never change when and Elizabeth once again finds herself kidnapped by dangerous Pirates, carrying a curious compass and searching for a mysterious key and the chest it opens. Can the Pirate King remember her past before it's too late, or will a new King force his way into her place?

Disclaimer: I don't own anything...

A few quick notes. This story will be told from several different characters' points of view (though mostly through either Will or Elizabeth) inspired by the way Jodi Picoult wrote My Sister's Keeper. I promise Captain Jack Sparrow will be a major character, and to bring back as many characters from the films as possible, even if they don't appear right away. Also, this is my first fanfiction for this series, I'm doing the best I can, don't bash me if you hate it, just stop reading. Reviews would be appreciated.

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Chapter 1: Where's the Thump-Thump?

_Elizabeth_

It's foggy. All I can see is the fog. Nothing but the eerie presence of the white mist surrounds me, and I know that I am hopelessly lost, and positively alone.

"Dead men tell no tales…" a drawn out voice squawks from behind me. I turn with a sudden swiftness toward the voice I have no desire to meet, but nothing but the thick mist greets me as I change direction. If I've changed direction at all, I can't tell left from right or even up from down anymore.

"Up…is down…" Another familiar yet distant voice calls, almost reading my thoughts. I jump, afraid that its owner is standing right beside me. As predicted no one is there and I release a breath that I was unaware I had been holding. I can see my breath, escaping from me in a warm cloud as my lungs quicken their pace in fear.

An equally warm puff of air caresses my neck, causing all the hairs on its back to stand on end. Calloused fingers brush my hair away from my skin and I can feel a pair of lips kiss the base of my neck from behind ever so softly. Suddenly I'm melting in a feeling I've never known, and wouldn't begin to know how to describe it.

"Don't stop…" the words are loose from my mouth before I can stop them, and I find myself closing my eyes in sweet anticipation.

"Keep a whether eye on the horizon," his strong voice answers and in a single breath he's vanished. The feeling of my body having turned to Jello vanishes along with him, and I'm afraid again, not wanting to know what other voices await me in the fog.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

It's faint, but I can hear it. The rhythmic beating of what, I'd rather not know.

Thump-thump.

It's behind me now. Slowly I turn, compelled to follow the sound. It's a sad and helpless sound.

"Ta' help wid da cold, and da' sorrow…" a woman's disembodied voice follows me, and I ignore her, partly in fear, partly in my own curiosity for the rhythmic thumping ahead of me.

"Yer goin' to want to know what hit tastes like…" The distant voice is closer than before, I quicken my pace.

Thump-thump.

The beating is louder, I must be getting closer.

"Forgive me…Calypso…" a man whispers in my ear, his Eastern accent strong in his dying gasp. It's so close I swear I can smell the stench of his breath. I squeal as I leap pointlessly away from it, trying my best to distance myself from the voice of no one.

Thump-thump.

"Come 'ere Poppet!" Another voice cracks, echoing off of the fog. I feel a dirty hand grab for one of my legs. I scream and kick away.

Thump-thump.

"You best start believin' in ghost stories Miss Turner," another voice threatens, the fog has grown thick with my tension and fear, "You're in one!"

An animal cries and yelps, angry and mercilessly. I'm terrified, my body has no choice but to run from the fears my mind has created.

Thump-thump.

The beating…it's growing faint. I'm running in the wrong direction.

"No!" A whisper is all I can manage, it beats one last time.

Thump-thump.

And goes out.

Thump-thu…

"It's always belonged to you, will you keep it safe?"

"No," I find my voice, "NO!" I yell at the top of my lungs. No one hears me. I'm still alone, surrounded by the cold unwelcoming fog. I'm panting now; the steady intake and outtakes of breath the only things keeping me from screaming bloody murder into the abyss.

A sound, like a music box playing calls to me from far away, taunting. I've heard that music before, I know it.

"Elizabeth?" an elder voice asks me from beyond. Father? "Are you dead?"

"No," I respond to nothing.

"I think I am," it replies, a sudden wave of sadness hits my harder then anything I've ever felt.

"Yo ho altogether,"

A faint voice sings in my ears, and in the haze of my mind I barely register it as my own.

"Hoist the colours high,"

I sing out again, still unaware of why I would be doing such a thing.

"Heave ho, thieves and beggars," my voice trembles, matching the obvious shakes of my body.

"Never shall we die…"

The last remnants of the tune flicker and fade into the fog. A trickle of wetness runs down my cheek. I'm crying.

In a rush of pain my chest feels as though it has collapsed in on itself. An invisible bond pinches my sides; I can feel my ribs crushing my insides. I inhale sharply to no avail, there is simply no air left to be had.

"Elizabeth! Will you marry me?" That strong, safe voice yells to me frantically.

"I don't think now's the best time…" I whisper breathlessly. I'm going to faint.

"I should have told you everyday from the moment I met you. I love you." He says sweetly and simply.

"I can't breathe!" I yell, but it's useless. I've spent all my oxygen.

I'm falling, off of what I have no idea, but falling all the same, endlessly through the never ending wall of fog and mist. Though the wind whistles loudly past my head, and I can still make out the faint rhythmic beats.

Thump-thump.

I'm getting close. I can hear it.

Thump-THUMP!

"Ow!" I fell from my bed and unto the hard wooden floor below me with a very loud thump, temporarily paralyzing me with pain. When I regain the feeling in my limbs I struggle to sit upright due to the tangle of sheets capturing my legs. It is a war I'm losing. Horribly.

No one comes to my aid after my fall. This is because I live alone. I used to live with my father, well adoptive father, up until his death a year ago. He had fallen ill some months before, after staying out all night during a storm. It was practically a hurricane, and I couldn't fathom why he had left in such a rush. I was worried sick, but of course, it was he who had really become sick. He was in the hospital on the main land for quite some time after that, and I found myself staying there long after regular visiting hours had ceased because I could not stand the thought of leaving him alone in some strange room to die. I also absolutely hated being alone in the hotel suite.

I will never forget my father's last words to me, as incoherent and senseless as they were. He lay in bed, tossing and turning fitfully in his fever. He grumbled a few words I couldn't understand at first, but then he found my hand and grabbed it tight. His eyes stared deeply into mine, and I could not stop the tears from welling up inside. We both knew it was his time.

"Calypso…" he said without warning, the rest of his words were mumbled and I could barely understand him "Calypso…the…heart… Cal…lypso…will free…will…you will" his eyes glossed as he tried to deliver me his final message, "love you, Elizabeth."

"I love you too, father." I whispered through my tears. He was dead.

I am free of my sheets at last, and for no reason at all a force inside me causes me to walk to my dresser. A sudden compulsion has my eyes fixated upon my top left drawer, my hand gripping its knob.

He found me floating a drift almost fifteen years ago, I was five at the time. It was obvious there had been a shipwreck, the broken pieces of a once large yacht scattered across the sea. They had been no other survivors, or at least no others were found. I was discovered in the midst of it, sleeping peacefully upon what I will assume to be a rather conveniently placed piece of drift wood, considering no other pieces like it were found either, and the coast guard determined it was not part of the wreck. But he, my father, rescued me and eventually adopted me when I was claimed by no one else. No family or even country. I don't remember much of anything before the wreck, or even how it happened, just my name: Elizabeth. I prefer Liz or Lizzie for short. Everyone assumes I'm from somewhere in Britain because of my accent, which oddly enough has stayed with me with despite living on a small island inhabited mostly Caribbean natives and Americans, like my father.

He was a wealthy man, and he left all his fortune (including the large home where I grew up) to me after his death. When I returned it was no longer my home, not without him there. It was far too large and far too lonesome to stay in all by myself. So I sold it, no regrets, to a family friend. Whether the house still looks the way I left it or is still standing at all I do not know. I bought a small, one bedroom cottage I had always fancied on the other side of the island right on the beach. It was just outside the busy section of town, though still secluded enough for my privacy I still had plenty of neighbors just off the path. The back wall of the cottage could open almost entirely up to reveal the sea and the sand just beyond the deck on the other side. I had a perfect view of the sunset every evening. That I thoroughly enjoyed.

I pull the drawer I've fixed my eyes on for the past ten minutes open quickly. Inside this drawer lays only one object: a key. This key and the tattered clothes on my back were the only items I was found with after the wreck, its ring so large it had fit around my wrist. Father used to say it must be a good luck charm, to have kept me alive. To be honest, the blasted thing has always frightened me more then it's ever brought me luck. That's why I keep in that drawer, all by its self so it won't contaminate any of my other possessions with its weirdness.

Another sudden compulsion guides my hand into the drawer, and before I can gain control over my own appendage the heavy key rests eerily in my hand. It looks more like two keys combined by the ring actually. One is long; one is short, and each face in the opposite direction. Its metal is a tarnished green from age exposure to water, and for the first time I find myself wondering just how ancient it really is.

Thump-thump.

I gasp, dropping to the key back into the drawer as quickly as I have retrieved it. Keeping the same lightening pace I grab for the umbrella next to my dresser, and whirl around just in time to knock a sandy haired boy across the face with my unconventional weapon.

"Andy?"

"OW! Damn it Liz didn't you hear me knock?" He practically yells through the pain. He's pinching his nose in attempt to blockade the flow of blood racing from his nostrils. I must have hit him harder then I thought.

"Andy, I'm so sorry!" I take a step forward to help him, but he matches it with one step back, his free hand outstretched to make sure I keep my distance. I realize I'm still holding my umbrella, now stained with his blood. With a slight bump I push my drawer closed with my behind (I'm embarrassed to let anyone know where I keep that key, or that I keep it at all) before hastily dropping the umbrella and making a dash for the bathroom, "Let me get you some towels!" I yell after I'm already half way there.

When I return to the bedroom Andy has his free hand cupped beneath his face to catch the falling blood drops. It isn't doing much good, and most of the blood seeps from the fingers and onto the floor. I stand frozen in the doorway for a moment, my gaze drawn to the small pooling of blood next to my bed. Andy senses my presence and looks apologetically at me, and I realize his mistaken my transfixed gaze for one of horror. He thinks he's ruined my floor.

"Sorry," he looks pathetic saying that as blood pours across his lips. I take a moment to control my thoughts before rushing to him. I throw the baby blue towel at him rather haphazardly, and he fumbles to catch it. Once he does he presses it firmly against his nose, and the towel begins to stain black. I crouch beside him, thrusting my white towel onto the wood with more force then necessary. I push hard against, trying to absorb the fallen blood before it can get away.

Andy's hand takes me by surprise when he places it against my back; I release a breath I hadn't been aware I was holding. He crouches down beside.

"Relax Lizzie, the floor's not the one whose bleeding." Wordlessly I look away from him and to the floor; the very spot I had the pleasure of being woken up by this morning. I have been squeezing the towel so tight the some of the blood has leaked through onto my hands.

Thump-thump.

A shiver runs through me and I hold my breath. I felt it, a forgotten dream sensation so familiar, yet so distance, beneath my hands. A rhythmic beat pulsated up through the floor boards.

Thump-thump.

"Did you hear that?" I find myself asking Andy, my gaze never leaving the spot where the blood had pooled.

"Hear what?" I don't answer him, "Liz, hear what?" he shakes me slightly.

"Oh," I pause, the words caught in my throat, I listen for a second more, but the sound is gone, "Nothing." I finally struggle to say. Perhaps it was my imagination.

Andy's father is extremely wealthy, and is in fact the "family friend" whom I sold my father's house to. Therefore Andy does not have a job, as Daddy pays for everything, including the new yacht he wishes to take me sailing on this afternoon, and to spend the weekend at sea. I love the sea, so I wouldn't say no and some other of his friends are going as well, meaning we won't be alone. That is a good thing. Andy and I dated for a little while during high school. I broke it off after my father had become ill, and I hadn't had time for a boyfriend then. Unfortunately, Andy still fancies me even though all attraction I had felt for him dissipated during my father's illness. Andy has yet to realize this.

"You ready?" he asks after our little "spill" has been cleaned and I'm all dressed. I take one last look in the mirror; the girl staring back at me is tanned significantly from island life. Her long light brown hair has been stained blonde in streaks by the sun, and is now pulled in a tight braid down her back, only the chin length strands of her growing bangs are left free. She wears no make up, according to the boys she's pretty enough without it. She wears no jewelry either; it only gets in the way. She wears a white tank top and maroon sarong over her bikini. Where looks are concerned she really can't complain. No one but me notices the loneliness hidden within her dark brown eyes.

"Liz?" Andy calls back from outside. Without warning I reach into my top drawer, and pull out the key. I don't even glance at it as I somehow stuff it securely between my bikini and sarong. Who knows, perhaps the blasted old thing will give me some good luck after all.

"I'm ready!" I yell as I grab my bag and head for the door.

Thump-thump.

This time I pretend to ignore the noise. Maybe if I do, it will go away.

Thump-thump.


	2. Never Shall We Die

Chapter 2: Never Shall We Die

_Will_

"Heave ho, thieves and beggars," I sign solemnly into the night air, "never shall we die." The emptiness of the sea and stars are not comforting. They haven't been since her death. For a while I could stare off into the open seas, and pretend I could see her standing on the nearest shore, waving to me as I passed by. I used to gaze up and wonder if she was watching the same stars as I was, or if she was pointing out some new constellation to our son, William Turner III. William Jack Turner actually, named for his father, and the man who saved my life. If you could call this existence of mine a life anymore.

It's been two hundred years since her death. Two hundred years since I last saw my love. She had been ill for a time, I hadn't even known. Not until it was too late. She had waited for me, like she always did, to return to shore. She held out as long as she could, as long as she had to till she could see me again. She was always strong like that. She collapsed in my arms the moment I touched her, over come with fatigue. She was an old woman by then, but I loved her the same as I always had. The same as I always will. It was our son, William, who had to tell of her sickness as I stood there on the beach, stunned. How could my Elizabeth be dying? My head-strong, fiery, beautiful Elizabeth, the Pirate King.

She was seventy-nine at the time of her death. That means since the day of our marriage, since the first day I left her to captain the Dutchman, we saw each other merely six times. Six days together. Six glorious and unforgettable days with my love, and now I must spend the rest of eternity without her.

She wanted so badly to join the ship, to become part of my crew, but I could not allow her. Despite her unbreakable will and spirit, a seventy-nine year old woman is in no condition to crew a ship. Against all her protests, I let her die, in my arms. I left her body with my son, and he cried on my shoulder. We both cried. It was the shortest day I had spent on land since my becoming captain. I returned to The Flying Dutchman immediately to ferry her to the other side. I had to see her again, my wife, my darling Elizabeth. I had to tell her I loved her, and that I would take care of our son, and that I would never stop thinking of her for so long as I live.

She never came.

I never saw Elizabeth again.

Though it was a beach she had still died on land, and I was merely the taker of those poor souls to have died at sea to the after life. Not those who died on land, not her. Never had I sobbed so hard in my entire existence. How could I have been so stupid as to rush off without staying for the funeral? For my son at least?

Eventually all those whom I cared for I came to see again: Mr. Gibbs, Marty, Cotton, Pintel and Ragetti. Even Barbossa passed through to, as he put it, "A much appreciated retirement." My son came through, and he enthusiastically took the offer of one hundred years before the mast. His years came and went with a quickness I didn't think was possible, and I found myself again lost in my sorrows. Neither my grandchildren nor my son's grandchildren came to be in my care. They must have all passed on land. I regret not being able to have met all of them, and not knowing where my bloodline continues, if it does at all.

The only member of my original crew left is my father. Even though I sent him free from The Dutchman's bonds long ago he chose to stay with me, and that I truly do appreciate.

I never saw my good old friend Captain Jack Sparrow again, and I constantly wonder what became of him. I doubt he would willing allow himself to die on land, it would be incredibly unlike him to do so. That lunatic.

I've only known hope once since mine and my son's parting. Fifteen years ago I came across a wreck in the Caribbean, familiar territory. A new and modern vessel had appeared run a reef and sunk during a storm. I hadn't expected any survivors to be honest. But there she was, a little girl, unconscious and sinking fast to the depths below. She was still alive, and on my conscious I could not stand back and watch from the deck of my ship and while she drowned. I dove in, and dragged her to the surface. She was so small, so fragile, and she looked so much like a young Elizabeth I once knew. My heart bled for her, it didn't matter how far it was or how long it had been separated from the rest of my body. I know what it's like to be her position: the lone survivor of a tragic shipwreck. Perhaps some boy will rescue her, and they will fall madly in love just as we did. I revived the poor girl on The Dutchman's deck. When she opened her eyes I swear I saw Elizabeth somewhere inside her.

"Don't worry," I told her, pushing a strand of wet hair from her cheek, "you're going to be alright. Elizabeth." I whispered the name before I could stop myself. I thought, perhaps this girl could be one of my heirs after all. Perhaps she could know where to find the chest I had lost along with my darling Elizabeth. I'm not sure why I did it, but I slipped the key to the Dead Man's Chest around her tiny wrist, set her upon a piece of useless would from the Dutchman. Once the skies cleared and the seas calmed, I set her adrift, knowing that a nearby boat would find her, and praying they would take care of her. Why did I place the key around her wrist? I still don't know. Maybe I thought, hoped, that one day this girl would grow up, and find the chest, and some how find a way to put my tortured soul to rest and set me free. But for now, all I can do is hope.

"Elizabeth…" I whispered into the night air. Oh, how I missed her, "I should have told every day from the moment I met you. I love you."

Dawn is approaching. Another day of servitude begins.


	3. I Can't Breathe!

Hello, I'd like to once again state that I don't own anything of Pirates of the Caribbean..sadly. I _do_ have a copy of the At World's End soundtrack however and find that it helps me to concentrate and write alot. So if anyone else has a copy, feel free to listen while you read, it helps to set the mood.

Chapter 3: I Can't Breathe

_Elizabeth_

There it is again: that same music box tune, taunting me. This time I won't open my eyes. I won't give into it. It can taunt me and tease me with its romantic melody all it wants. I will _not_ open my eyes.

"Elizabeth," Oh God that voice again. That husky sweet and strong voice that makes my inside turn to mush is whispering in my ear again. I giggle involuntarily. Those calloused fingers are tracing a path up calve, and I can feel a slight stubble on his chin tickle my leg. I laugh again. This time I can feel his lips kiss my knee before he rests his cheek against my thigh. The feeling sends a tingle through me, all the way up my legs and into my stomach. His touch is intoxicating, and I find myself wishing he would never let go of my leg. That he would hold it hostage forever between his rough palms and his sweet lips. Before I can beg the invisible man to kiss me again the feeling is gone, leaving me cold and empty.

"Wait," I my voice speaks in whisper, "No. wait!"

I must open eyes. I have to see him. I have to look into the eyes of the man who does this to me. My lids fly open with an unexpected haste and determination. What my pupils see as they adjust to the bright glare of the Caribbean sun is a pair of gleaming, beautiful baby blues. I want to smile, but I can't remember why. As the delirium sleep fades from me my mind quickly accesses the situation. A man is leaning over me, watching me with a rather smug smile painted on his face.

My palm rises and collides hard with the side of his face, leaving a red welt across his left cheek. He scurries away from me in agony, and I rise with equal swiftness. The sun is blinding, I can hardly see anything so I hold my hand over my eyes for shade. Andy's form comes into view, holding the side of his face that now possesses my handprint, along with the bandage from my earlier mishap.

I gasp, "Andy! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to!"

"Oh man Lizzie, what is with you lately?"

"I said I was sorry," I retort, growing defensive, "Maybe you should stop sneaking up on me!"

"I wasn't sneaking!"

"No," came a voice from across the deck of Andy's yacht, "you were tickling her feet," this voice belonged to Ann, a high school friend of both myself and Andy, sitting across from us in her blue and white stripped bikini, reading a magazine. Though her dark skin was hardly in need for a tan, she enjoyed simplicity sun bathing far too much. She had even bought herself rather large brimmed sun hat for the occasions, one that currently rested atop her straight black hair.

"You were tickling me?" The notion of "tickling" seemed vaguely important, though I can't remember at all why.

"You should have seen your face Liz," Andy chuckled, "giggling in your sleep!"

"I was not," nor was I giving a convincing argument that I hadn't, laughing as I protested, "was I?" Ann's lips broke into a smile as she nodded. "I have no recollection of such a thing."

"Of course you don't, you were asleep," a third voice called from below deck, "heads up!" he called again. In rapid secession three cans of Beer shot out from below deck like a canon. We all raced and fumbled to catch one, surprisingly enough I was the only one who succeeded. The moment Jeff emerged from below deck in his board shorts and surfer haircut the "party" commenced. When I say party, I really just mean four underage friends sitting on a boat deck drinking Beer and laughing at consequently non-humorous things over loud music due to drunkenness simply because we are away from our parents and can.

It wasn't long before Andy brought out some Captain Morgan rum from one of the coolers. He poured a cup for himself, and for Jeff, "Ladies?" he offered. Ann and I both declined, I've never been a girl for rum. Something about it makes it seem like such a vile drink.

"Aww, c'mon gals!" Jeff laughed, "You don't got a little Captain in yar? " he joked in his mock Pirate accent, striking the traditional Captain Morgan pose.

"Afraid not Jeffery," I answered, "sorry."

With that I stood up and left our huddle. Neither of them seemed to notice between jokes and gulps of rum, and I didn't mind. I leaned my elbows against the railing, watching the sun sink into the ocean on the horizon. I watched and I waited, just as I did every evening. What exactly I was waiting for I don't know. I never have. Maybe I'm waiting for my long lost love to come sailing over that horizon to sweep me off my feet. HA! Like that would ever happen. The last rays of the sun struggled to stay afloat for a few more seconds, before finally being over taken by the sea.

"What are you thinking about over here?" I hadn't even noticed that Andy had come to stand beside me, leaning his back against the rail.

"Oh, nothing," I replied thoughtlessly into the night.

"You seem to be thinking about a whole lot of nothing lately," he obviously remembered this morning, "what goes on in that head of yours Lizzie?"

"Well…I…" I didn't know what to say, "You see Andy,"

CLUNK

Something has landed on the deck of the ship. Andy and I both heard the noise; Ann and Jeff did not over the sound of their radio. With a look from me Andy began searching the deck.

"What the bloody hell was that?" I asked.

"What was what?" Ann giggled back.

"Andy?" I called, it was getting hard to see in the dark, "Andy did you find it?"

"Oh shit!" he said flatly, "Jump!"

"What?" he raced toward me, and pulled my arm roughly as he ran for the side of the boat. Ann followed, as confused as I. Andy was mad! He's about to swan dive off the side of a yacht into the middle of the ocean and plans on bringing me down with him. _What's got him so spooked?_ My gaze shifted behind me in curiosity, and immediately my eyes found it. A stick of dynamite had landed on the opposite side of the deck.

"Jeff! Jump!" I screamed, but the sound of the blast drowned out my words. Andy held fiercely to my arm as we both plummeted into the water beneath us. I was only aware of the two of us, and the blast. I could feel the heat of it on my back, burning glow in my eyes, the sharp slices of broken metal and boat as it tried to devour us whole, the spray of water in my face as Andy hit first. It takes an eternity for me fall. The force of the explosion knocked all the air from my lungs and I felt my ribs crush against them as they begged for air.

_I can't breathe! _

I hit the water with a sickening smack, my lungs already burning from lack of air. Andy was no longer holding tight to my arm, the blast had broken us apart. I hadn't the slightest idea of what happened to either Ann or Jeff, and panic raced into my gut at the thought of Jeffrey standing only feet away from the deadly stick. I kicked my legs hard and swam for the surface with new determination: to find my friends.

The tips of my fingers broke the surface, soon my arms, and eventually my face emerged. I gasped, swallowing lung fulls of much appreciated oxygen. I wiped the stingy salt water from my eyes. Our ship was gone, blown to pieces. The largest piece of it towered in flames, illuminating the chucks of debris floating on the water's surface. I was alone. None of my friends had made it to the surface. Fear bubbled inside of me; I swam in circles, calling out each of their names as I tried to stay afloat. In one direction a fog was beginning to roll in over the ocean, a new fear raced through my veins, a fear of something familiar, and something deadly.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Jeffrey, floating twenty or so feet away from me. "Jeff!" I called out, "Jeffrey!" I screamed again. He couldn't hear me, I had to swim for him. The fog was growing closer and thicker by the second and I found myself not swimming toward Jeff, but swimming away from the swirling mist before it could paralyze me. At last I reached him, his face down in the water. "Jeff! Jeff!" I cried through spits of salt water. I grabbed him by the shoulders; it took all my strength to pull him over.

I screamed in horror. A blood curdling scream loud enough to wake dead. No, that isn't true. If I had screamed that loud Jeff would have woken and we both would have swam to safety. Instead he just bobbed there, lifeless in the water. His eyes were wide and glossy, blood oozed from his chest. I panicked again as I saw it began to engulf me, turning the water a disgusting red. A screamed again and kicked uselessly at the false tendrils of it wrapped around my legs. Soon it would pull me under, just like those silly fairy tales or giant squids or octopuses or other sea creatures. To be completely honest, it was those stories that scared me the most as a child.

In the midst of all my thrashing I began to feel lighter. A small, but very real weight had been lifted from me. I couldn't figure it out, but I was thankful it was gone. I could swim freer now, and all I wanted was to swim away. Then it struck me.

"The key!" I had lost it. I had lost my only good luck charm. Only one thought passed through me once I dove into the bloody water: I. Need. That. Key! I dove, deeper and deeper into the water's depths. My lungs begged me to stop, to go back and take in a fresh gulp of air, but I couldn't do that, not until I had that key back. I was almost at the bottom; I couldn't allow myself to give up now. I stretched my hands ahead of me, reaching disparately for the ground. With one giant kick I pushed myself downward, saving no strength for my return to the surface. I hands dug into the soft sand, and I wasted no time scavenging for my good luck charm. The salt of the water stung my eyes, but I knew I couldn't close them, I wouldn't be able to find the key if I did.

My fingers touched metal. I had found the key. Wrapping my hand around its iron ring I positioned myself so that I could easily kick myself off the bottom and up to the surface. Gold leaked into the corners of my vision, pulling me in the other direction. I had no choice but to turn around and take a look, forgetting my desire to breathe. It was the sun. It was under water. So this is where the sun goes when it sets. Normally my brain would have told me that was impossible, but the lack of oxygen in my blood made me think it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen: the sun rising underwater. Dripping its way from the top to the bottom, and look, Jeff is swimming down here too. Isn't it lovely Jeff?

No. No it isn't lovely. Jeff cannot be swimming down here with me, Jeff is dead. I saw him with my own eyes. He was dead, he was dead, he was dead. The need to breathe is overpowering. I need to swim. I need to breathe. I need to escape. Suddenly Jeff turned to meet my gaze, his eyes so full of spirit.

A burst of pain throbbed in my head as a pair of clumsy hands grabbed mercilessly at my scalp. I was too weak to fight back as they tugged hard on my hair, dragging me to the surface. I didn't care that it hurt. At the surface there was air, and where there was air I could breathe.

A flash a green illuminated the floor of the sea, and that was the last thing I saw before the wave of fresh air hit me.


	4. She Goes Free!

Just a warning, this chapter is told from both Will and Elizabeths' point of views, so hopefully it isn't too confusing. Remember, reviews appreciated.

Chapter 4: She goes Free!

_Will_

The rush and thrill of chasing the sunset, of down becoming up and sea becoming air has grown old in two hundred years. In one brilliant flash of green The Flying Dutchman has shifted between worlds. First to the land of the living, where we pick up our expected new comer, and then just as quickly back into the realm of the dead so that I may ferry to his ever so peaceful after life. All in a day's work.

Our new soul is not accustomed to this sort of travel, and flops about the deck very much like a fish out of water. He gasps for a breath, and I wonder how long it will take him to realize his body no longer has a need for that which his mind craves. A remain at the wheel, not willing to confront when he is in such a shocked and confused state. I've grown frustrated in dealing with the souls who are often confused and wary about death. It is much easier when they simply except the hand fate has dealt him.

There actually is no need for me to approach this soul just yet, my crew has taken the liberty of rushing to meet him already. The only stays behind is my father, Bootstrap Bill Turner, the only who has crewed The Dutchman for as long as I have and even longer.

"What the Hell? Where am I? What-what the Hell is this? What happened? Who are you?" The boy asked questions faster then my crew could answer.

"You're dead," came the voice of my father behind me.

"No, no that isn't true. I can't be dead, I just can't be!" The boy was frantic, he began run about the ship, searching for any way to return from whence he came, we could all sense it. I turned to my father with a raise eyebrow, my silent single that this one would need more convincing.

"You're a ghost boy!" one of my men laughed at him, "Dead as a doornail. There ain't nothing left for you to go back to." At this remark the boy looked as though he would cry.

"That's enough Mr. Fowlsom, back to your post," I commanded gently, so as not to frighten the boy more.

"Aye Captain," Fowlsom sighed as he shaffled away.

The boy turned to me, "Am I really dead?"

I took a deep breath, "Yes."

"Oh God, oh God," he cradled his forehead in his hands, "what about my parents? My family? I have brother! What about Annie and Lizzie? Oh God. Are they here too? Are Ann, and Andy and Lizzie here? Are they dead too?" his concern for his friends was genuine.

"No."

"But Lizzie, I saw her, underwater, and she saw me too. Just before that green flash, she looked right at me." My teeth clenched and fists tightened at the mention of that name. I knew what "Lizzie" was a nickname for: Elizabeth. Seeing my discomfort my father tried to draw attention away from the name.

"Tell us what happened boy,"

* * *

_Elizabeth_

It's foggy again. I can't see blasted thing. All I can hear are the voices, dancing circles around my head. It's making me dizzy.

"Abandon ship. Abandon ship," one squawks.

"Welcome to the Caribbean, luv."

"She goes free!"

"Did you forget? I'm a heartless wretch!"

"What a ship is, what the Black Pearl really is, is freedom"

"No doubt you've discovered that loyalty is no longer the currency of the realm,"

"That's why there be no sense in me killin' ya, yet!"

"Calypso I release you from your human bonds,"

"Spirit of a woman sir, widowed before her marriage,"

"Sun rise sets, flash a green…" _Greennnn. Green. Gree._

It echoes off the fog. Sun rise sets, flash of green.

"Liz! Lizzie, _wake up_!" Ann is yelling in my ear. Why so loud? "Please Lizzie!" I opened my eyes slowly, lazily, unwilling to let the light pour into my face. Ann stood over me drenched, worry written over her pretty face. I can see Andy behind her, a large cut bleeding from his forehead. There are other men standing around as well, speaking a language I cannot understand. We're in a cabin somewhere below deck. I can feel the gentle rocking of the waves against the sides of the boat. I'm suddenly slapped with the startling realization that I have just been kidnapped, "Lizzie, _get_ up!" Ann whispers sharply, it draws my attention back to her.

"Yes Lizzie," a man with a thick Spanish accent coos above us, "do get up."

I sit up quickly, not taking my eyes off of him. He smiles warmly, but with in his deep black eyes I can detect his true nature of cruelty. "Good girl," he says. I scowl at him, "aw, don't look at me like that. I'm trying to be to be a good host. It's my way of saying thank you for this." He pulls an item from one of his pockets and holds it up the light. It's my key!

"You killed my friend," I throw as much venom into my voice as possible, "and _that_ is mine." A small cry escapes Ann as she covers her mouth. Andy looks as though he's just been punched in the face. They didn't know about Jeff, and _that_ is how I told them.

"I'm afraid not Miss Lizzie," he kneels before so that he can whisper in my face, "you see this key is more important then you could ever imagine."

"So important that you had to take my friend's life for it?!" Andy is screaming in rage. Jeff was his best friend, "Huh? Is that how important that stupid little key is? Enough to kill a guy over?"

"Yes as a matter of fact it was," is our captor's simple answer. His crew snickers at his reply, no doubt thinking him witty. Ann is trying her best not to sob, but I fear her efforts are useless.

"You're a murderer," I growl at him, embracing Ann with one arm.

He grins, "Actually Miss, I am a pirate."

"What's the difference?" Andy asks rhetorically, his voice thickly coated in sarcasm.

A pistol is pressed firmly against Andy's forehead, he tenses.

"The difference _boy_ is that if I were but a murderer I would have fed you to the sharks by now!" Andy is shaking, "But I haven't, now have I? No. Do you want to know why?" His cold stare shifts. This question is directed towards me. I nod my head obediently, figuring it the answer he wants. He chuckles, sensing my fear. He removes the gun, and Andy's muscles relax. The pirate steps closer to me, to at last he reaches out and holds my chin between his thumb and index finger. I want to shrink away in disgust.

"Because I need something from you," he smiles at me.

"Me?" I'm confused and terrified all at once.

"Where is the chest?"

"What chest?" I know nothing of a chest.

"Don't play dumb with me girl, where is the chest?" he demands, his tone becoming threatening.

"I don't know anything about a chest I swear-" he slaps hard across the cheek. My face stings, and tears well in my eyes. I have to blink to keep them at bay, not wanting to show my fear.

"You try my patience," he speaks to me as though I am a two year old, "You clearly possessed the key, meaning you must also be holding the chest, no?"

A chest? Is that what the key was to, an old chest? What could this man, this pirate, possibly want with a chest? Buried treasure? I thought that went out of style years ago. He leans closer to me, and I can smell alcohol in his breath.

"I know you are its keeper," I open my mouth to protest, to convince him that this has all been a big misunderstanding. I don't have any chest. I don't know why I had the key. He should let us go. This isn't fair. I can't die like this, at the hands of a pirate. Jeffrey didn't _deserve_ to die like this.

"Captain Ferrara, we are coming up on the island!" a man yells from above us.

Ferrara never takes his cruel eyes away from me as he reaches into his pocket. The item he pulls out is a small box, with a black dome atop it. The captain lifts it slowly from his pocket by an old raggedy string. He flips the domed lid of the box open and glances down. Then he snaps it shut and his eyes find mine again.

"I will find the chest no matter what Miss, but without you helping me it will take longer. The longer it takes, the more," he pauses for a moment, searching for the correct word, "frustrated I will become." He snaps his fingers.

On cue another man yanks Ann from my arms despite both of our shouts and protests. He covers her mouth and Ferrara points his pistol at me to shut us up. Andy is struggling to rise and beat the daylights out of the man holding by the neck with his forearm, but a second guard keeps him restrained.

"The more frustrated I become Miss Lizzie, the more of a _murderer_ you will see me be." He cocks his pistol and aims it at Ann with a deliberate slowness. She squirms in the other pirate's grasp.

"You bastard!" Andy mutters. Captain Ferrara makes a very convincing argument. His finger slowly begins to pull back on the trigger.

"Alright!" I yell. He freezes, "alright I'll do it! I'll take you to the chest, I swear it!" a thought strikes me, "on one condition."

"You should know your place Girlie!" to man holding Andy barks, "the Captain is in no mood to be making deals!"

"Quiet!" Ferrara beckons, "name your condition."

"They go free," I gesture to Ann and Andy, "you let them go, safely, and I'll take you to the chest. I promise."

"Liz don't," Andy begs.

"Agreed," Ferrara steals my hand and shakes it forcefully. I can only hope he keeps our agreement long enough for Ann and Andy to escape, for I've promised him something I cannot do.


	5. Sunrise sets, Flash of Green

I'd like to take a moment to stop and thank all those readers who reviewed, I really do appreciate them and enjoy the feed back.

I'd also like to take a moment and say you know you're obcessed with Pirates of the Caribbean when you and your best friend hang out in the toy aisle in Walmart to play the theme song on one of those toy keyboards. )

Any who, Enjoy!

Chapter 5: Sunrise Sets, Flash of Green

_Elizabeth_

We are standing on the deck of Captain Ferrara's ship. It's more of a rather intimidating yacht, with several smaller ones floating close behind us. He practically has his own fleet. We stand here waiting, Andy, Ann and I. our hands are bound behind us with an itchy rope. Ferrara promised he'd take them to shore with us in one of the smaller boats, and have one of his men wait with them until we return with the chest. I'm already panicking, running through every idea I could possibly come up with to get away. My mind is hopelessly empty.

I hadn't noticed before that my pirate captors all carried swords around their waists either. I thought swords were useless as weaponry to anyone today.

To my right I can see the faintest speckles of light breaking over the horizon. It's almost dawn, how long had I been unconscious below deck? The sky above us is dark with storm clouds, and the thick fog that rolled in during the night blankets everything in sight. I can see a stretch of land ahead us, and soon feel the boat begin to slow. The beam from the lighthouse passes just over heard. It's too foggy, there's no way anyone could see us. But that lighthouse, in the distance, I'm sure I recognize it. Even through the fog it doesn't take me long to figure out why.

"That's my home," I'm appalled. Ferrara's priceless chest is on my island, my home?

"Is it now," he doesn't sound surprised, "then I suppose then it should take us no time at all to locate the chest, seeing as how to know this island so well, I'm sure." Blast. My chases of escape keep sliming, "ready the boat!"

Ferrara reaches for my arm, and I step back "they go in first," he eyes me curiously, "I want to make sure they are in the boat."

The captain nods, "very well." With a graceful gesture of his hand to two men holding Ann and Andy (whose mouths of both been gagged to prevent them from screaming) hand them off to another set of men, already waiting in the boat. I move to follow and Ferrara grabs my wrist.

"You come with me," he hisses.

I glance one last time, fleetingly, at the sunrise. It's barely noticeable through the clouds and mist, but I know it's there. This will be the last sunrise I ever see. Ferrara is going to kill me when he discovers I truly know nothing of this chest. It was only a coincidence I was carrying that key. That damn key. It was no good luck charm at all. Suddenly I'm thinking of my father again, lying on his deathbed. I want to cry.

A flash green flies over the horizon. The same green flash I had seen while underwater, when I had seen Jeff.

"Captain!" a frightened sailor yells, "Captain, look!"

The waves roar behind me, and water drenches my back. The sound is loud and crashing and I duck to avoid whatever it may be from crushing my head. I hit the deck in a painful thunk, hissing through my clenched teeth. I look up, and I'm frozen. What I see is unbelievable. It's not possible. Rising from the ocean depths is a ship. It's a menacingly old and tattered ship, like something right out of the days of the East India Trading Company. Its sails are coated in seaweed, and its wood is green and mossy, covered in barnacles. The bow is in the shape of a grinning swordfish, its teeth sharp and pointed. I hear a man yelling, but I cannot understand him over the terrified shouts of the Ferrara's crew, many of whom have jumped ship. Soon men from the second ghostly ship and swinging aboard on their ropes with swords drawn. Swords! All impulses of crying have left me. Now all I want to do is scream, but my throat is paralyzed. Only a faint whispers is released from my throat: "Pirates,"

A young man on the ghost ship spies me with his large brown eyes. He's so handsome. I want to melt in his eyes. I want to twirl my fingers around his shoulder length brown hair underneath his green bandana. He grabs a rope and wings across, striking one of my captors with his sword on his way across. His burgundy shirt is opened enough to reveal a large and jagged scar mangling his chest. He rushes toward me.

"No!" I have to get away. He is a pirate. He is another pirate come to kill me. I scramble up off my knees and attempt to run past him and into the center of the brawl of clashing pirates on the ship's deck. My friends are on the other side. I can hear Ann screaming my name. They're in the boat! They're guards must have abandoned them when the other pirates arrived. If I can make it to them, I'll be free!

A strong arm grabs me tightly around my stomach, pulling me in the opposite direction. I punch and kick at the arm and its owner. I will not be killed by Pirates of any kind!

"Let me go!" a yell. My elbow collides with his gut. He gags as his arms release me in reflex. There is an opening in the mob, now's my chance! I sprint once more for the sound of Ann's voice.

"Elizabeth!" I'm frozen. I know that voice. How do I know that voice? My head rotates ever so slightly to view the voice's possessor. The pirate with the jagged scar is still clutching his bruise belly. A look of unmatched pain is spread over his handsome features, and I don't think it was caused from my blow. "Elizabeth?" his voice is overflowing with hurt and my heart suddenly aches. How does he know my name?

"Liz!" Andy calls to me, and I don't hesitate. I push through the dueling pirates till I'm standing on the rail of yacht, readying myself for the jump down. Ann and Andy keep yelling warnings at me, warnings that I cannot interpret over the sounds of guns firing and swords banging.

"Seize her!" Ferrara yells from somewhere behind. His words are followed by a string of unpleasant sounding words in Spanish. I take the leap before he can grab me.

"Elizabeth! No!" that soothing voice shouts, but he's too late. I'm falling from the deck of a yacht for the second time in twelve hours. I hit the water with a familiar splash, and when I surface Andy is already pulling my body into the boat. He tells Ann to start the engine as I cough up salt water and before any of the pirates could so far as leap after me we're speeding toward the shore.

"Elizabeth!" the scarred pirate yells. I don't look back.

_

* * *

_

_Will_

Elizabeth has been kidnapped by pirates. Out of all the words the boy uttered as he told his story, those were the only ones that mattered. His friend, Elizabeth, had seen his soul floating in the water before the Dutchman picked him up. She was retrieving a key from the bottom when the pirates took her. A key, the boy said, that looked like two keys attached by the ring: the key to The Dead Man's Chest. A key I had given to a little girl fifteen years before. A little girl I had called Elizabeth. She was in danger, I had to save her.

"Don't do anything stupid Will!" my father warned, "Remember your duty!"

I wouldn't listen to him. I packed our newest recently deceased passenger into the long boat, instructed him how to reach his destination and was ordering my crew to the other side before anyone could stop me. I was frantic, but I only had one thought: save Elizabeth.

We took the vessel that had attacked Elizabeth's by surprise, rising up from the water. My crew wasted no time storming the ship, taking full advantage of our element of surprise. The other ship's crew barely has time to draw their swords before my men are upon them, and battle is underway.

I found Elizabeth immediately. It wasn't hard to, she hadn't changed at all. She was so beautiful, exactly how I remembered she looked to day of our wedding, the same day as my death. It was really her, my Elizabeth come back from the dead, all her former glory restored. We stared at each other for one long moment, her soulful brown eyes never leaving mine. I swear I saw her knees practically buckle as the breath caught in both our throats. I could contain myself no longer. I bolted for her as fast as I could as the pirates of both my crew and the opposing vessel clashed.

Elizabeth mirrored my movements. She hurries to her feet and sprints toward me, panic written all over her elegant face. She almost runs past me, but I clasp an arm around her waist and pull her firmly to me. I must protect her.

"Let me go!" she screams and struggles to whiter out of my grasp. How can she be so terrified still while in my arms? I open my mouth to console her; however Elizabeth is faster and elbows me hard in the stomach. In the shock of my pain and her outburst I release her, and instinctively wrap them around my own gut as I double over. She certainly has not lost any of her old strength. She ran from me.

"Elizabeth!" I yell. The sound of my voice halts her. Her head turns at a frighteningly slow pass, and my eyes find hers once again. I see no recognition in her features. Her eyes are frightened, her body stiff, and her face a dazzle of confusion. My heart breaks from within its prison. She does not remember me. How can this be possible, our love was unbreakable? Please don't let this be true. Let her remember me!

"Elizabeth?" her brows furrow, puzzled that I know her name. I want to cry. The pain of losing her love was nothing compared to the pain of her not knowing our love even existed.

"Liz!" another boy calls to her from below, and she obediently follows. I am not her rescuer, he is.

"Seize her!" a man orders in a thick Spanish accent. It is not hard to figure out that he is the Captain. He is the slimy bastard who kidnapped my wife!

Elizabeth has positioned herself atop the railing, ready to jump into the sea at a moments notice. I can her voices below encouraging her to do so, including the boy who called her "Liz." Elizabeth readies herself for the jump and does not notice two Spanish pirates rushing toward her.

"Elizabeth! No!" I shout, fighting my way through the mass of dueling pirates. She ignores me and leaps from the deck. The two scoundrels have no chance to follow her, for I do not hesitate to run them through with my sword. One falls to the deck squealing in pain and grasping abdomen. The other falls limp and dead. After I save Elizabeth, I will not forget to send him to Hell.

I lean over the rail and watch her speed away on a small motorized boat along with two others. They are heading for the island not far ahead of us. I'm losing her. With every second she sails further away from me I find I'm death upon myself. "Elizabeth!" I yell to her a final time, my cry no doubt frantic. I know she hears me, but she still chooses to ignore.

"She knows the location of the chest! We must not let her get away!" The Spanish Captain yells, followed by something in his native tongue. Several men of his crew prepare smaller boats from his other following ships to take them to shore. They plan to hunt down Elizabeth because they believe she can take them to the chest, _my_ chest. Elizabeth cannot remember me, let alone the chest.

I spin in time to block an oncoming attack from a skinny man screaming several times louder then the rest of the noise in the brawl. Our swords meet and clash and I think I can almost see his whole body shake when the metal in his frail arms struck mine. It has no effect on me at all. I kick him firmly in the stomach and he struggles to remain standing. He is no serious threat.

I turn again, my sword meeting with another of the Spanish crew. As we duel, behind him I can spy the Captain and his men already speeding after Elizabeth. None of my crew follows. Though we are immortal, we are still outnumbered three ships to one. The man I am dueling thrusts his weapon into my abdomen while I am off guard. It hurts, but the pain is bearable. He is aghast so see me still standing in front of him, unaffected. I pull his sword from me and likewise puncture his chest. He is dead before I can remove the blade.

"Bootstrap!" I yell.

"Aye Captain!" my Father responds. He is dueling three men at once, not far from me.

"I'm going ashore!" his eyes widen for a moment, but then he nods.

"Aye Captain!" he says before focusing on his opponents.

"Captain!" another member of my crew shouts, "it's your only day! Don't waste it on this! Think of our duty!" he means well, but I don't care.

"It's been ten years, and today is my day! I am free to spend it however I so please!" With that I thrust to two swords I am holding into my belt, and dive head first into the ocean.


	6. Hoist the Colours

Chapter six is here and so is the usual "I don't own anything though I wish I did" disclaimer. And is it just me, or would Bon Jovi's "Shot through the Heart" make the perfect theme song for Davy Jones?

Brownie points to whoever catches the Fight Club reference in this chapter.

Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Hoist the Colours

_Elizabeth_

"We have to hurry! We have to run…to find help!" I'm breathless as I leap from our getaway boat before Andy can pull it up to the beach. I don't wait for them. I run through the knee deep water, then onto the soggy sand of the beach. There are pirates out there. Not just any old pirates either, ghost pirates for Christ sake! They're out there, just waiting to devour this island whole.

"Liz, wait please!" Ann yells to me and I can hear the tears in her voice. Ann was hurt when she fell into the boat after the ghost pirates attacked. It's not bad, but her arm is still bleeding. I need to find someone to help us and quick. I need to warn the island as well, everyone on it. Pirates are coming!

Before Andy can stop me I'm off the beach and running like a mad woman through the empty streets. It's dawn; there must be somebody out and about this early. I see no one, and my hope is fading.

"Hello? Is there anybody listening to me?" my voice echoes off the stillness and morning fog, "We need help! Hello?!" I hear a grumble next to me. I've found someone! Granted they're past out drunk on the steps of a local tavern, but at least now I'm not alone! The fog seems less threatening when I'm not alone. I tap him. Hard.

"Hello? Can you hear me? Please! Please wake up, we're under attack and I _need _help!" I'm shaking him, something he is not too pleased with when he awakens. I recognize him once his eyes flutter open, in my state of panic I hadn't before, despite the fact that he is rather hard to miss with his graying sideburns and pudgy belly.

"Mr. Gibson!" he grumbles. Mr. Gibson isn't a day person. He owns and tends the tavern whose steps he currently rests on. In the early morning hours he's often as drunk as most of his patrons, reciting local folk lore and pirate tales of long ago. He takes great pride in his story telling, and I don't think I've ever heard him repeat the same tale twice.

"Ms Summerset?" his eyes focus on me, still slightly impaired from last nights consumption of alcohol, "Ms Summerset what are ye doing out so late at night? I thought you were with Andy Durden and-"

"Mr. Gibson it's dawn!"

"Is it? Already," he rises from his steps, brushing the dirt from his knees, "I should be-"

"Mr. Gibson you're not listening to me!" I grab his shirt collar, "We're in trouble. Andy and Ann and I! There are pirates Mr. Gibson! Real, true life pirates fighting each other of shore! One of them kidnapped me! Us! They wanted me to take them ashore to find something- a chest – but we got away. Another pirate ship, an ancient one, jumped up out of the water like it was a dolphin and all the pirates just started fighting each other! It was a ghost ship Mr. Gibson! I swear it! They used swords and everything! Mr. Gibson they're all trying to kill me!" I'm rambling. I can't stop. It's only after the words leave me that I realize how farfetched it all sounds.

"A ship, ancient ye say, jumped up out of the depths of Davy Jones' locker like a couple o' dolphins?" he doesn't believe. I hesitate.

"Yes,"

"Miss Summerset of ye been drinking this evening?"

"No! I'm telling the truth!" I pound my fist against his chest, "there are dangerous, deadly pirates _riding_ a ghost ship out there! You tell pirate stories and legends all the time, why is it so hard for you to believe me!" I'm shouting at him, this poor man who has every right not to believe a half drunk not-yet-twenty-year old.

"Because, Ms Summerset, they be nothing _but_ stories and legends," this isn't working.

"I can prove it to you!" his eyes roll, "Just come with me, _please!_" I'm begging him. If I wasn't so furious that he didn't believe I think I'd be crying, but instead I'm pulling hard on his arm to convince him to follow. In comparison I'm not that strong, he doesn't budge.

"Ann is hurt, she needs help quickly," I try to say as calmly as possible, "follow me to her and you can just see the bloody pirates for yourself!" calm has never really been my thing. Mr. Gibson sighs in defeat.

"A ship, ghost ship, come flying up out of the waters?" he repeats, I nod. "Sounds like the Flying Dutchman if ye ask me."

"The Flying Dutchman?" urgency dissipates as my curiosity peaks.

"Aye. The Dutchman is a ship, an immortal _not_ ghost ship, set with the charge of ferrying all those souls lost at sea to the other side. I don't know much more about it other then that." I want to tell him that he obviously knows something more to be able to tell me even that much from my brief description, but my mind is preoccupied. Why would a ship like that attack another? The answer hits me all too soon.

"Jeff…" my voice trails. I think of Jeff, his body still floating somewhere at sea, and feel nauseous. I hate pirates, all of them, for what Captain Ferrara and his men did to Jeff.

"Ye alright Ms Summerset," Mr. Gibson puts his hand on my elbow to balance me, "ye lookin' a bit sea sick."

BANG!

I have no time to respond. A loud cracking pop breaks the silence of dawn. Though I've never heard one before, I'm sure it's a gunshot. I hear Ann squeal from the beach where I left them. Andy yells something, muffled by the voices pirates shouting in Spanish. It's too late to get help. They've come for me.

"What the Devil…" Mr. Gibson asks this question to one in particular. Without so much as a second glance toward me he gingerly advances down a narrow street leading to the beach. I've no choice but to follow, for there is no way I'll stand to be left alone with pirates on the island.

Mr. Gibson leads us to a tiny hiding space behind a dune. He presses his finger to his lips, a motion meant to tell me to keep silent. My body is stiff as I peer of the top of the dune. Ann and Andy kneel, bound and gagged in the sand. A member of Ferrara's pirate crew stands behind each of them, aiming pistols at their skulls. A thick lump of fear rises in my throat. Oh God, do not let a person close to die twice in one day.

"Where is she?" the Captain asks, my friends do nothing to answer. They couldn't if the wanted to with their mouths gagged. They didn't know where I was anyhow. Ferrara pulls the black domed box from his pocket and checks it again in aggravation. I do not expect him to turn so sharply, his cold black eyes penetrating my hiding place.

"Ah," he says casually, "there you are Miss Lizzie." A rough and dirty pair of hands drags me to my feet and marches me in front of his Captain. I do not bother to fight or protest, already knowing it's useless to do so. I simply stare at him with pure venom and hatred in my eyes. Mr. Gibson is marched forward from our dune as well.

"I see you've made a new friend," Ferrara gestures at him as another man gags him with a piece of cloth similar to Ann and Andy's, "how charming. I suppose that means he will have to be just one more person I get to kill as soon as I'm through with you. That is, unless, you can still find me that chest?"

"Captain, you have the compass, why do we still need the girl?" a dirty man asks timidly.

"Carlos, I need the compass to help me find some either things, remember? Some other _blacker _and _pearlier_, things. Besides, with Miss Lizzie guiding me to the chest it would not take nearly as long as it would without any other sort of guidance. Isn't that right Miss Lizzie?" he pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger again. I spit in his tanned face. He wipes it his sleeve.

"Don't be so ignorant Lizzie, can't you hear it beating? Can't you hear it calling for you?"

"I've already told you, I don't know anything about the chest-"

Thump-thump.

It's back. I can hear it again. The rhythmic beating from my from my dream I can only now remember.

Thump-thump.

It draws my attention away from Ferrara and over my left shoulder. It's coming from down the beach. From my house.

"So," one of Ferrara's henchmen grab me by the wrists, "you do hear it. take me to it."

Thump-thump.

I can't stop myself. I'm leading Ferrara and his goons blindly down the beach. I have to follow that noise. I have no choice.

Thump-thump.

Before I realize it pirates are practically breaking down my back doors to get inside. I want to tell them that isn't necessary but I can't speak.

Thump-thump.

My room. It's in my bedroom, growing louder with every passing second. My eyes fall to the stop on the wood flooring that had so painfully woken me yesterday morning. It's the very spot now that is now darkened with Andy's blood. Ferrara doesn't need my finger to point the chest out to him. We both already know where it is.

Thump-thump.

He barks orders at his men in Spanish. The thug pinning my arms behind my back releases me and joins three others as they claw mercilessly at the wood work. My hands lay limp at my sides. The floor creeks and cracks at first, before it breaks completely. The pirates fumble with split boards in attempt to dive deeper into the hole.

Thump-thump.

It's so loud now.

"Yo ho, altogether…" my singing is hardly above a whisper. No one notices.

Thump-thump.

In one giant heave the three pirates toss a heavy chest onto my floor, at the feet of their captain. It's as ancient as my key, covered in dirt and dust. Ferrara tenderly kneels and smoothes its surface clean. He allows his fingers to trace over it's intricate design.

"Hoist the colours high…" my eyes never leave the chest, but I can feel Andy looking at me.

Thump-thump.

"The key!" Ferrara beckons, and the one named Carlos shoves my precious key into his hands, "at last," he whispers in joy.

"Heave ho thieves and beggars…" my singing is loud enough now to be a nuisance. Ferrara pays me no mind. The only thing that separates us is that chest.

Thump-thump.

"At last the sea will be mine," He inserts my key into the chest and gives it a soft turn. A few gentle clicks sound inside the lock before the chest unseals itself, making a surprisingly loud noise when the lid springs open. Ferrara unsheathes a dagger with deliberate slowness.

Thump-thump.

This is the loudest it's ever been, and I'm just beginning to understand why. In the corner of the chest lays the still beating heart of a man who was killed for being in love. A blinding, white light ignites my pupils, a light no one else is aware of. I'm forced to look away for a moment against my will. Everything is a haze; I can't understand left from right or up from down anymore. I squeeze my lids shut, hoping it will keep my head from spinning.

Thump-thump.

I allow air to renter my body. When I open my eyes I feel for the first time in my life completely awake and whole. Why had I been asleep for the past nineteen years?

Thump-thump.

"Will…" Ferrara glances up at me, his dagger hovering dangerously over the heart of my long lost love. My glare meets his, "Never shall we die."

His brows furrow just in time for my heel to collide with his forehead. I send him sprawling onto his back; he was not expecting an attack. Before the others can move I stomp the lid of the chest, shutting and locking it tight. I kick it to the wall behind me, placing myself in the way of any pirate who dares try and take it. I snatch my umbrella from beside my dresser, prepared for battle. I use it to smack the neck of Carlos brutally hard and causing him to choke in pain. I can't help but smirk at my resourcefulness. Ferrara staggers to his feet. I hold my weapon defensively in front of me.

"Miss Lizzie," he hisses, "have you _ever_ before crossed the path of an angry pirate?"

"Have you?"


	7. She Who Love 'em, Truly

Sorry it took me a while to update, I was having a very busy past few days.

Thanks again for all of my reviews so far, seeing all your reactions and requests for more updates really makes this fun to write for you all. I'd like some feedback though about the action sequences, I've never written anything like them before and pretty much just had fun with it. It's difficult to put what's happening inside my head down on paper and at least make it understandable. haha.

I'd once again like to thank Hans Zimmer, the scene from Will's point of view in this chapter was written while listening to "I don't think nows the best time" on repeat.

Chapter 7: She Who Love 'em, Truly

**_Andy_**

_"Miss Lizzie," he hisses, "have you ever before crossed the path of an angry pirate?"_

"_Have you?"_

The phrase: "Liz, what the Hell do you think you are doing! Don't be stupid!" with a gag in your mouth sounds something like this:

"Mirr, mmaa ma Hell uu ooo hiing err uuingg! Ownnd ee hhuummiiddd!"

Sounds like this are unfortunately difficult to translate, and are often ignored. Ignored, just like my confused and sorry ass is right now! First my nose gets smashed in, then my yacht gets blow to Hell, my best friend is killed, I get kidnapped by pirates, the girl I've had a crush on all of my life is bargaining for our lives with a key and now she plans to take on entire gang with an umbrella. Oh, and did I forget to mention the Magical Pirate Ship of Doom that sprang up out of the ocean like a Jack in the Box? I've never felt so terrified and crazy in all my life.

Captain Ferrara is scowling at Liz, he and his men have her backed into a corner and all she has to defend herself is an umbrella, not that it hasn't worked before. I should know. I want to blitz attack them, run up behind them and knock 'em out before they can even see me coming. The only problem with that plan is that my hands are tied behind my back, to my feet. Ann is tied on my left, Mr. Gibson, the local bartender, to my right. I haven't the slightest idea how he got involved into all this, but he sure isn't helping in anyway.

"Miss Lizzie, you better give that back to me." She stands tall and shakes her head defiantly.

"No."

"Please?" he's not really asking her, it's a joke to him.

_Don't be the hero Liz, please, don't give him any more reason to kill you!_ Her eyes meet mine, silently pleading with her. For a split second I don't recognize her as my Lizzie, she's a different person. She is a cool headed, strong, independent and radiantly beautiful woman. I'm not sure which of the two Liz personas I like more at the moment.

Her eyes shift back to Ferrara and then me again. She lifts her chin slightly, as though she were trying to get a better look at the murderer standing in front of her. I can sense an idea forming behind those big brown eyes.

"You want it?" she bends down cautiously to left the chest up by one of its handles. Her eyes never leave Ferrara's and she keeps pointing her umbrella at him as if it were a sword. Liz nods to me, no, not to me, to the guard behind me. I should know what this means. I've known Liz longer then anybody. I was there that day her dad found her, after the wreck. We've always been friends. We even dated. I should know what she's trying to tell me. She fixes her eyes on Ferrara like a hungry lioness, "Come and get it."

On second thought, I much prefer the side of Lizzie that doesn't get me killed.

Three out of the seven pirates in the room, including Ferrara, lunge for Lizzie. My stomach lurches. They still use swords. They'll kill her.

One of the pirates yelps in pain. Lizzie is quick on her feet, and has jabbed the point of her umbrella into the foot of her attack. She swings the heavy chest hard into his chin before returning his bloodied foot. His teeth fall with the patter of rain drops onto the floor. She stabs another pirate in the chest, not deep but still enough to cause bleeding. He wobbles away from her trying to plug his wound. She ducks before I have time to register two sounds that clanking together at the very stop where her head should have been. I had no idea Lizzie could possibly move that fast.

I think I understand Lizzie's gesture now.

I take this time to pretend I'm doubled over in pain. I lean forward against the floor as far as I can. The scruffy guard watching over Ann, Gibson and I, bends over to pull me upright. I thrust myself backwards with as much force as I can muster up. My skull throbs when it collides with his face. I fall over top of him and onto my back to keep him pinned there.

"Mmmm!" man this hurts. What would give anyone the idea to do that in the first place?

I can still see Liz. She's used her umbrella to push the swords aimed for her head against the wall, and is now knocking their owners practically unconscious with that chest.

Ann flings herself onto the floor beside. She's somehow managed to spit out her gag and reaches for a dagger in our guard's belt with her teeth. I assume security is unconscious, otherwise he'd be grabbing at me and Ann by now. She grips the knife tightly in her jaw, and turn over so that she can saw me loose. Gibson has found a nail poking out of the wall and begins working himself free from bonds as well.

Ferrara is making no effect to stop us, nor help his crew (currently getting their butts kicked by a woman). I think he enjoys watching us all struggle too much.

Lizzie makes a run for the door leading from her bedroom to the back patio. A thoroughly bloody pirate clutches the second handle of the chest, pulling her to a halt. They tug fiercely at their ends of the chest, neither willing to let go. _Come on Ann, I'm almost free. Just cut a little bit quicker…_

The pirate playing tug-o-war with Liz rips the key from the lock. Her face drops and grip looses unexpected for just a moment. That just so happens to be the exact amount of time needed for a second wounded pirate to shove her to floor. The chest lands a foot or so from her collapsed body. One of the other pirates bums Lizzie's nightstand, sending her lamp shattering on the floor. Our light source is gone, and it is still dark outside due to the thick storm clouds.

SNAP!

I'm free. So is Gibson. He currently works on slicing Ann's bonds. The pirates fumble in the dark, half blind already from the amount of blood dripping into their eyes from their head injuries. I crawl to Liz, she's conscious but barely. She presses her palm against her temple. I motion for her to be silent and reach for her hand. We're getting out of here.

Liz has other ideas, and instead of meeting my hand half way she lunges past me and throws herself at the chest. Ferrara's foot makes it there first however, keeping it pinned to the ground. He aims his gun for her lying defenseless at his feet.

During the rumble the leg of a chair has somehow become detached from its owner. It's as good a weapon as any.

"Adios, Miss Lizzie,"

I slam the leg as hard as I can into the side of Captain Ferrara's head, catching him off guard. Score one for Andy.

"Come on!" Ann hisses, she's already out the door and running for the beach. I move to follow, not wanting to be anywhere near Ferrara when he regains his balance. Gibson and I each grab one of Lizzie's arms. If I have to then I'll drag her outside.

"The key!" she protests. The key is not important, saving Lizzie's life is.

A slimy hand grabs my shirt back. I let go of Liz and punch whom ever it is standing behind me hard in the mouth. Liz squeals, but Mr. Gibson keeps pulling her forward. The punching back covers his face with his hands to protect himself the second time around. I stop mid-swing; Lizzie's key is in his grimy fingers. I pluck it from him with ease, "Thanks." I punch him again.

I'm the last one out the door. A storm is on its way, the wind has picked up severely. I can see Ann running for the small boat we arrived in a ways down the beach. And I see an entire gang of Ferrara's pirates cluttered at the nearest dock. Their swords are drawn, they're dueling. There's so many of them it's hard to tell which one is on which side, and then I realize there are no sides. They are all fighting the same person.

"Will!" Liz screams as she breaks free from Gibson and sprints for the dock. my first instint is to run after her, but Gibson grabs me and stirs toward Ann and the boat.

_

* * *

_

_Will_

My sword clashes loudly with the swords of the band of pirates waiting my arrival at the dock. They come at me relentlessly, obeying the commands of their captain. The time I've wasted fighting them already has put my in the foulest of moods. The fight is not loud enough however to drown out the sound of Elizabeth's voice, calling my name through the wind.

"Will!" she's running toward me. My mood lightens. She remembers?

"Elizabeth!" I cut down a burly man blocking my way and several others; I must make it to Elizabeth.

"Will!" she narrowly avoids decapitation as she navigates her way through the mob of angry pirates. I make a mental note to kill the fellow going for her head.

"Elizabeth!" we've reached each other, finally. I snatch her hand in mine and spin her around. Her back is now pressed warmly against my chest and my arm is pressed firmly over hers. Elizabeth lefts her legs high to kick an oncoming thug in the gut while in my grasp. She smells the same, and I find myself not ever wanting to let her go. She gazes up at me tenderly and for a moment we're the only two people in all the universe. "You remember?" I whisper to her.

"Yes," she whispers back. A smile crawls across her face; I can feel one forming on my own. She closes her lids and leans forward for a kiss. A _long_ anticipated one at that. My eyelids shut as well. "Will!"

"Elizabeth…" I say weakly.

"Will I need a SWORD!" she screams. My eyes open. I'd almost forgotten our battle. The noises of the duel and of the weather are both so loud she has to yell. An ugly and tattooed pirate aims his blade at our faces. I push her away from regrettably, and take advantage when his saber strikes nothing but air. I watch in fury as her cloth skirt is ripped from her body by another blade, revealing her bare legs. She is as furious as I now.

"Here!" I toss her the spare I had taken off another unfortunate soul earlier. She and I both plunge our swords into her un-dresser's chest. He deserved it.

Elizabeth and I face each other, our bodies inches apart. Without thought I wrap my free hand around her waist and pull her to me, wanting to kiss her once more. I want to kiss her more then anything I've ever wanted before in all my life.

"Will, behind you!" she spins me away from her in time for me to block an attack. I feel her turn as well and press her back against mine. We are being attacked from both sides know. "Will?!" I interlock my elbows with hers and lean forward. I raise her into another hard kick on my back.

"Yes?" her feet are on the ground again. I take her hand, my left in her left, to make sure I can't loose her anymore. We stand parallel to each other now, hand in hand. Husband and wife reunited.

"I'm sorry!" she says as we both block the blows aimed for us in all directions, "I'm sorry I couldn't remember you!" we turn to look at one another.

"Don't be sorry," I assure her. She's silent for a moment, hoping for another attempt at a kiss. Sadly, that will have to wait. Simultaneously we lunge in opposite directions, both of us making firm contact with our targets. We move in a circle. Elizabeth leans all her weight forward so that my arm is the only thing keeping her from falling as I rotate for the both of us. I block as she swings.

"Will?!" she asks again, I pull her upright. She is beautiful with the wind whipping her hair across her face like that, even in battle.

"Yes?" she jumps, I catch at my side, by her rear, with my free hand as she slams her heels for a third time into whom ever it was who dared try and get me from behind. Another pirate has the same idea as that one did, and doesn't aim for my back, but Elizabeth's. In one swift motion I dip her forward and she's looking up at me, still being held up by my arm. Our opponent's saber hovers just above her face. I puncture his gut, and Elizabeth takes a few of his fingers. I'm surprised she didn't cut off his entire arm.

She looks up at me longingly with her pure eyes, "I still-" she doesn't finish. Instead she pulls me roughly by the collar, causing us both to fall to the dock with a wet thud. I collapse on top of her; our faces are mere inches apart again. I lean closer.

With strength I didn't know she possessed she rolls us both over, now I am underneath her, a position I do not mind. A dagger falls and sticks into the wood where our heads previously lay.

"Will, I still-" I interrupt her again, grabbing her waist and pushing her over my head. She tumbles gracefully to her feet as I lock swords with a Spaniard from while lying on my back. I'm at a disadvantage and he knows it. One quick flash of steal above and it's over; Elizabeth has wounded him beyond healing. She extends her arm downward and I take it, lifting myself back onto my feet.

We are fighting them back to back again, our duels too intense for conversation. I'm desperate to hear her finish he sentence, and equally desperate to state one of my own. I sense movement behind me and spin. Mine and Elizabeth's swords hit with a loud clash above our heads.

"I Love You!" we both blurt at once and I can feel a smile breaking across my face to match her own elated expression. It reminds me of our final battle aboard the Pearl. I grab arm and twirl her so that her back is safely against my chest again. The rest of the world melts away from us as we stare into each others eyes.

I press my lips firmly against Elizabeth's. They're soft and warm and far sweeter then I remembered them in all these years. We stand there, oblivious to the havoc around us, wrapped protectively in each other's embrace. The wind whips Elizabeth's long hair against both our cheeks. I've missed its softness. Our kiss deepens, I'm floating in euphoria. She loves me still. She loves me as I love her. We share an unbreakable and unyielding bond between the two of us, and nothing can tear us from this rapture.

"Uh, I'd hate to interrupt!" Elizabeth's lips leave mine and they instantly feel cold. A boy is calling to us from the boat Elizabeth had ridden in with him earlier. He and two others have guided it back into the water and they now float just off the dock. Either my eyes are deceiving me, or Mr. Gibbs sits in the boat with him, along with another familiar face. The look on his face however tells me he was more then overjoyed to interrupt, "But we have to _gooooo!"_

Elizabeth and I look around us, still locked in each others arms. Every pirate who had been attacking us now laid either dead, temporally incapacitated or had retreated. No doubt reinforcements will soon be after us to revenge their fallen comrades. In fact some have already begun to move frantically about their ships, preparing to send out another boat. The Dutchman had disengaged herself from the battle and was now putting as much distance between herself and the other ships as possible. Something flies off the main Spanish ship in the direction of the Dutchman. It explodes ferociously in midair.

"I agree. Time to go."

* * *

Trust me, it's not anywhere near over yet. We still haven't even seen Captain Jack! 


	8. Persuade Me

Thank you all so much for all of the fantastic reviews to Chapter 7. I'm afriad this chapter isn't nearly as exciting as the last, and was actaully a pain to write at some points, but it's necessary to further the plot. So without further adue I present to you:

Chapter 8: Persuade Me

**_Andy_**

"I agree. Time to go," Mr. Suave the Pirate sheaths his sword on the dock, and loops his arm back around Liz's waist. Without so much as giving her a chance to take a breath he leaps with her off the dock. If I was close enough to him I'd knock his teeth out for touching her. I'd _especially _like to knock his teeth out for kissing her. He had no right to touch her. What was Liz thinking running toward him, when he's probably after us for all the same reasons those other Pirate are. I can't really figure out those reasons right now without thinking back to that disgusting chest. This has been the most impossible day of my life.

Liz and her pirate buddy and swimming for us, if I had an anchor I'd throw it at him. Behind them on the beach the injured pirates are beginning to regain consciousness. I can see Ferrara emerging from Lizzie's cottage, glaring daggers at us from a distance.

"Hurry up Lizzie!" I shout. Their pace quickens, and it isn't long before they reach our little motor boat. It also doesn't take long for the pirates on the beach to find their boats.

I hoist Liz into the boat. She's soaked and wearing nothing but her bikini and tank top now. I seat her next to Ann, and for some reason they eye each other cautiously, like they hadn't known each other for almost their whole lives. The tiny boat shifts and rocks to one side again.

"Welcome aboard Captain Turner," Mr. Gibson extends his hand to our pirate attack turned Liz's rescuer. My thoughts jump back to when he kissed her. I hate him.

"Mr. Gibbs?" he asks. How could they know each other's names?

"No! I meant Liz let's go, not you! Uh-uh, no way am I letting this guy on here!" I move to push him over the side.

"Andy don't!" Liz yells, Ann is silent, but I won't stop. This guy is some wacko psychotic dude who thinks he's a pirate! Gibson knew his name, they're probably in cahoots. I should shove them both off, take the girls and find the nearest coast guard.

Captain Turner shoves me away from him with ease (and more force then necessary) as he climbs on. He stares at me with the coldest look I've ever seen. It's hard to want to look away but hold your ground all at the same time.

"Where she goes," he nods at Liz, "I go." Behind him Lizzie's mouth opens into a faint smile. She sees my furious expression and it vanishes. She looks down into the bottom of the boat to avoid eye contact.

"Where to Cap'n? Gibson asks, I hate that he calls a complete stranger Captain.

"Head for the Dutchman," Turner commands, "we'll be able to lose them."

"Aye Cap'n," Gibson pulls at the engine, and soon our tiny vessel is carrying us to the ancient, scurvy infested looking, zombie ghost ship.

"No!" I protest again, "You're a God damn pirate! I'm not going where with you!"

"Andy no," Lizzie restrains my arm, desperately wanting to avoid a confrontation between me and the pirate. I grab her wrist.

"Liz, you can't trust him, he's a-" why is our boat slowing?

"Pirate?" Liz fills in the blank, looking down at me like Scrooge to Tiny Tim. she makes the word sound like an insult… _to me. _Her domineer has transformed somehow, and right now she's not the Lizzie I've always known. She yanks her arm from my grasp. Our boat slows to a halt.

"What's wrong?" the oh-so-charming pirate Captain Turner himself asks, "Why have we stopped moving?"

"We've run out of gas Will," Gibson tries to explain, "We can't move anywhere."

By the look our resident pirate casts him I swear he must be thinking you can't be serious.

"Uh, Will?" Lizzie is whining, "I'd hate to sound like I'm complaining but…They're following us!" she finishes with a scream. We all turn our heads back to beach. It's true. The remaining pirates have all huddled into their boats (with full tanks no doubt) and one by one begin to speed for us. Captain Ferrara is among them, looking angrier then I feel.

"What now Cap'n?" Gibson asks. Ann is quick, and without warning pulls a gun from under her skirt, she must have stolen it off of our guard before. She yanks Liz's shoulder, and holds the weapon to her head.

"We throw 'er back!" She suggests. I'm speechless. I think we all are. Liz appears calm despite Ann's outrageous threat. She must be joking! Ann and Liz are friends, why would she do such a thing?

"Anamaria?" Turner asks, "I thought I recognized you."

If I could say I wasn't confused before, I certainly am now.

While Ann is distracted by Turner, Lizzie moves just as quick. She grabs Ann's hand holding the pistol at her head, and raises a sword to Ann's neck. In order to keep her head Ann frees Lizzie's arm and clasps her free hand over Liz's fist grasping the sword hilt.

"What the Hell…?" that's it; I give up trying to keep track of who's my enemy and who's my friend in all this.

"That wouldn't work," Liz says to Ann (weapons still pointed at one another), "they only wanted me to lead them to chest. They have it now, along with the key. The only reason they'd come after us now is to merely kill us for sport."

That sounds pleasant.

Wait! The key! I have the key. I took it from one of those scummy pirates and I hold almost forgotten about it. I pick it out of my pocket and dangle it in front of Lizzie's nose.

"This key?" I ask. I don't think I've ever made Lizzie so happy. Her attention strays from Ann as she throws her arms around me for a hug. I smile smugly at the scowling Turner.

"Andy you took it! I can't believe you took it!" she pulls back, "Thank you! Thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means to me!" she kisses me in gratitude. It fills my stomach full of butterflies, and I can't help feeling satisfied when Turner's scowl deepens and his hands curl into tight fists.

"Might I make a suggestion?" Gibson says after seeing Turner's reaction, "We swim." The buzzing of motor boats is growing closer. We nod, and without a word dive simultaneously into the water and swim (I reluctantly) for the ghost ship.

_

* * *

_

_Elizabeth_

"Welcome back, Miss Elizabeth," a member of Will's crew offers me his hand as I board the Dutchman. I recognize him immediately.

"Bootstrap!" I never thought I'd be so excited, or so grateful, to see him. I throw my arms over his head, embracing my father in law. He gives me a small pat on the back, obviously not used to this sort of display of affection. Another member of Will's crew helps Anamaria aboard. With all her threats toward me I wonder why I've never come to hate or even strongly dislike her. Andy's head is level with the deck when he stops moving.

"No," he's reluctant again, even though he knows it's our only choice, "no I don't trust any of this."

"Quit yer whining boy!" Mr. Gibbs grunts as he heaves Andy onto the deck, then follows suit. Will boarded before the rest of us, but I can't find him anywhere among the busy pirates. Each one is frantically going about their tasks, calling for their Captain. Bootstrap's job seems to be babysitter for those of us still lucky enough to be fully alive. I feel a bit sorry for Andy, I'd never seen him so frightened and confused before. Gibbs is explaining to Anamaria what happened to us after she left the crew of the Black Pearl, Andy is trying desperately to pay attention, yet keep his eyes on me at the same time.

"Will?" I'm greeted by a bundle of cloth tossed into my face by William. I cradle the bundle in my arms for moment.

"What's this?"

"Clothes," Will answers, unable to hide the sheer frustration and annoyance in his voice. I look down at my bare legs, suddenly so aware and self-conscious. I had forgotten I was wearing nothing but bikini bottoms. A few crewmen stare at me, restraining themselves from whistling as I pull my tank top down as far as it will stretch. They look away the moment they catch Will's protective eye.

"Everyone to your stations!" he barks, "I want to put as much distance between the Dutchman and this other vessel as possible!"

"Captain! Captain," Will's frustration expands as several pirates call for him. One wanting a heading, another needs to tell him something urgent, another informs him of the situation involving Ferrara's ship and is wondering the best course of action. I scan the deck for a mildly safe place to change while he's busy. Beneath the stairs leading the helm seems like a safe enough spot. Though I don't say anything, both Will and Andy follow me to my destination.

Bootstrap catches up to his son, "Do you think this is wise, Captain?" he whispers, just loud enough for me to hear him behind my back. I don't think he realizes this.

"Only until we can safely bring them to shore, I promise" Will brushes him off quickly. Right, Will can't have me stay here. We'll have to be separated again for another ten years. The thought of this is unbearable, transforming a happy reunion into a sorrowful one.

I sneak my way into the little nook underneath the stairs. Will, being the gentleman that he is turns his back to me and stand guard over my hiding spot. I fumble through the clothing and lift a long black garment from the pile. It resembles a dressing gown, only the sleeves have been chopped off. It's not a complete gown however. Only enough fabric hangs in strips to cover my front and back, a pair of black pants accompanies it. "Is this…mine?" I ask him, recognizing the outfit from so long ago. Will coughs a little in his throat; "You kept this?" he coughs again.

"Ahem...um…yes," I can't help but to giggle. He loves me so much. He loves me enough to keep my old clothing. Andy reaches us as I pull the tank top over my head. He and Will glare at each other with loathing. Each of them believes he should be protecting me from the other. I hate the uneasy silence between them.

"I must thank you both," I say while pulling on an Asian style pants as part of my new attire, "Andy I have to thank you of course for retrieving the key. And Will, "my voice adopts a more playful tone, "Well I just don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you for everything you've done."

Andy makes gagging noises like a child, but I can spy a smiling tugging at the corners of Will's mouth.

"Captain!" a man calls, "Captain we have taken a prisoner!"

"What?" Will abandons his post as my protector to inquirer more about the prisoner being brought above deck now. I too can't wait to speak with him. Andy attempts to take Will's place guarding me but I brush past him, tucking the key into the black sash tied around my waist pinning the robe closed.

"Let me speak to him," I insist. The man is on his knees, hands bound behind his back. He's muttering prays in his native tongue, expecting that it will save him.

"He doesn't speak much English Miss," the man watching over him explains.

"Can you translate, Rusty?" Will asks, and he nods. Good, I have a few questions for him. I tuck my sword into my sash as well now, hoping to intimidate the prisoner. I bend down and lean in close. I don't want him to miss anything.

"What does Captain Ferrara want with that chest?" he shakes his head, I'll ask him a second time, "what does he want with the chest and how did he find it?" then it strikes me. I know how Ferrara found the chest, the same way he found the key. He used a very interesting compass he kept in his pocket.

"The compass your captain was carrying, where did he get it?" our prisoner looks up at Rusty as he translates above me.

"Compass?" Will asks. I know what he's thinking. I know this because I'm thinking the same thing. Our prisoner shakes his head in fear.

"He says he doesn't know Miss," Rusty tells me.

"The compass," I say again, "it's black. Your captain keeps it in his pocket, carries it with him all the time I bet. Its how he found me, found the key, and the chest," Our captive looks straight at me now, not at his translator, "Tell me: is the compass broken? Does his compass _not_ point north?"

"Si, senorita," he nods in a puzzled understanding.

"Good. Now tell me, where did he get it?" the prisoner avoids eye contact again, suddenly not understanding a word of my English anymore. He doesn't want to answer the question. I'll rephrase it then, "Did Jack Sparrow give that compass to your Captain?" he's not afraid to look at me anymore.

"Jack Sparrow?" I nod. He burst into laughter, "el esta loco!" he shouts through his laughter. He needs no translation. I draw my sword and aim it at his jugular.

"Why does Ferrara have Jack Sparrow's compass? What has happened to Jack?" my thoughts skip back to Ferrara. He said he needed the compass to find something else he wanted. This was something _blacker_ and _pearlier_ than the Dead Man's Chest. "Is Captain Ferrara going after the Black Pearl?" his laughter ceases at once.

"The Black Pearl?" Will asks again. He's not asking questions though, simply thinking aloud, "Why the Pearl?"

"Why not?" Mr. Gibbs interjects, "Everybody has." Will, Mr. Gibbs and I exchange glances and shrug. It's the truth. Actually, I hardly know anybody who _hasn't_ tried to steal the Pearl.

"Where is Jack Sparrow? What happened to him? Is he alive?" I interrogate our prisoner further, inching my blade closer and closer to his neck. He says a bit in Spanish, and spits at my feet once he is done.

"He said," Rusty begins, "The Jack Sparrow is being punished, and cannot be found-"

"Except by those who already know where he is?" Will offers.

"No," Rusty corrects, "he says Jack cannot be found in this lifetime. If he could be found, by the time anyone reaches him he'll be long since dead, and those who make it there alive, and are already dead."

"Last I ever heard of ole Cap'n Jack," Mr. Gibbs begins, "was that he was on his way to find the Fountain o Youth, using Sao Feng's charts o course. He was gonna find it and take back the Pearl from Barbossa. Uh…again."

"Barbossa is dead. Everyone is dead, I ferried them all," Will informs us, "All except Jack."

"Do you think he _actually_ found it?" I ask. I hadn't thought Jack that capable of discovering or achieving something all by himself; usually he had us to unwillingly help.

"Even if he did, what significance would the Pearl be?" Will speaks again.

"Some say that _anything_ touched by the waters of the Fountain o Youth will live forever," Mr. Gibbs needs not elaborate.

We contemplate all this information for a few moments before deciding our prisoner is of no further use to us.

"Through him overboard," Will directs.

"Aye, aye Captain!" Rusty answers excitedly. Apparently our captive wasn't very well liked. Rusty and some others grab our hostage by his limbs and toss him. He cries out a string of very English curses at us after his splash, before he swims back to his ship.

"We need that chest," I mutter. How could we get it? We can't storm the ship again, we'd be out numbered and the chest probably isn't even onboard yet. We need a plan, a good plan.

A thought strikes me.

"Think like Jack."

"Like Jack?" Will asks, "How so?"

"Why fight when you can negotiate. We want the chest, and he wants the Pearl. All we need is-"

"Is the proper amount of leverage," I adore it when Will and I think alike.

"Exactly. If we can find the Pearl before Ferrara does, then we can use it bargain with him. The chest is after all useless without the key, which we have thanks to Andy," Andy smiles, proud of his accomplishment.

"I take it we be goin' after the Pearl too then?" Mr. Gibbs inquires. I nod, "that be an awful hard thing to do Miss Elizabeth, considering it's been lost for as long as Jack has, rumors say that Cap'n Jack hid it on purpose so nobody could ever steal it from 'em again. There's that _and_ Ferrara has the compass."

"If Jack hid it then Jack will know where it is," Will says, "it's not like Jack hasn't gone missing before. We sailed off the edge of the world to find him once; anywhere else can't be too difficult."

"Uh buddy, hate to break it to ya, but the world is round," Andy tells us, we ignore him.

"So it's a plan then, Captain Turner?" I request Will's seal of approval.

"Aye, it's a plan," Will turns to direct his crew, "Mr. Turner?"

"Aye Captain?" Bootstrap answers.

"Run out the guns," he smiles "we can't have them getting a head start now can we?"

"Aye Captain! Run out the guns!" there's commotion below deck as the port holes open to reveal the canons. Andy leans over the deck rail for a better look and screams something along the lines of you've got to be kidding me.

"Elizabeth!" Will calls to me, "will you do the honors?"

"Aye Captain Turner," I step up onto the rail, holding a rope to keep my balance. The wind picks up and the skies have been darkened by the rolling clouds. Ferrara's flag ship is in our sights, "FIRE!"

The wood shakes beneath my feet as two canon shots are launched at the opposing ship. My ears ring from the explosion. Andy sticks his fingers in his ears. Our aim is perfect, if not lucky, as both shots strike Ferrara's expensive yacht. Two gaping holes now decorate its hull. Pirates yelp and jump ship as the vessel sinks at rapid speed. It will certainly take them long to recover. Victory, if only temporarily, is ours.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Andy asks after I jump from my perch, "How do you know these people? Are you a pirate and never told me? I'm I dreaming? Who is he?" he points grandly at Will, "and who the Hell is Jack Sparrow?"

Silence. Everyone aboard knows exactly who the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow is and of his escapades. Whether Jack is the worst or best pirate you've ever heard of, chances are you've still heard of him. Everyone knows of Jack, everyone except Andy.

Behind Andy, Will is gesturing to me from across the deck.

"Mr. Gibbs?"

"Yes Miss Elizabeth?"

"Would you please explain to Andy the great Captain Jack Sparrow for me?"

"Certainly Miss Elizabeth," he drapes his arm over Andy's shoulder, "Tell me Mr. Durden, what do ya know of sea turtles?" Andy's eyes follow me as I walk away from them, and toward Will.

Things have grown quiet. The amount of men on deck going peacefully about their duties is minimal. Each of them politely ignores Will and I in our semi-remote corner of deck near the bow. Will takes my hand in his and everything around us fades away. I'm lost in his eyes.

"You're bleeding," he says studying my palm.

"What?" my palm is bleeding. I hadn't even noticed being cut. Will rips a piece of cloth from his bandana and begins to meticulously bandage my wounded hand. He holds it close to his face, so that at any moment his lips my graze against it. I tilt my body closer to him, and our foreheads touch. Neither of us moves from this position.

"I've missed you," he says softly, stroking my palm with calloused fingers.

"And I you," I'm smiling at his touch. We both stare intently at my palm.

"You couldn't even remember me," he traces a path down my index finger with his own.

"But I dreamt of you," his eyes, soft and brown, meet mine "Every night since the day you rescued me." I'm confessing dreams and memories I couldn't recall until this moment. Will's thumb glides circles over the skin on the back of my hand.

"Elizabeth…" he whispers tenderly.

"You gave me my name back. I remember that. I can't remember anything before that moment, but I remember you," Will's thumb accidentally pokes at my cut. I wince in reflex.

"I'm sorry," he pulls his hands away, "they're rough I know," he chuckles, "blacksmith's hands."

"No, pirate hands," I slip both my palms into his, "don't stop."

We smile at our private joke. One by one he kisses the tips of each my fingers. He's slow, deliberate, and almost teasing. One of his hands travels the length of my arm, while the other holds my wounded palm to his lips for another kiss. It tickles and I can hear myself giggling. He kisses my wrist, then my forearm, then up to my shoulder. I close my eyes, enjoying the simplicity of his affection. He kisses my collarbone, then my neck and finally my lips. I return his kiss passionately. We've both waited so long to be kissed by one another again. His fingers tangle with mine, his other hand is now pressed against the back of my neck. My free hand slips under his shirt and trances the path of the crooked scar over his chest.

Our lips part; I'm suddenly reminded of the misery that will follow our next inevitable parting.

"How can I live another ten years without you Will?" I've finally asked the question that burned inside me, "One day is not enough Will. It's not enough." I'm holding back my urge to cry.

"Shh…" he whispers and places his thumb over my lips, "it'll be alright. We'll find Jack and the Pearl and then-"

"And then what? And then we are to be separated for another decade?"

"We have no choice…"

"I've already wasted your day," a wave of guilt washes over me. Today was to be his only day on land for ten years, and he spent it looking after me. A tear falls down my cheek.

"No, you didn't waste it," his thumb wipes my stray tear then caresses my chin "Any day spent with you is never a day wasted. Nothing would have stopped me from saving you. Not even the great Sea Goddess herself," I chuckle involuntarily, "I'd die a thousand deaths before I let anything happen to you. I love you Elizabeth."

"Will Turner," I laugh, "you are far too handsome, pure hearted and devilishly charming for your own good. Did you know that?"

"Am I?" he smirks.

"Yes. You think for the good of everyone around you but never yourself, and you're just so dashing that everyone else lets you get away with it."

"I think about you Elizabeth," he reassures me "only you; every moment of everyday of every year. Knowing that you loved me, if only once in an eternity, was enough to keep me going as strong as I have for all these years." I want to laugh and cry all at the same time.

"There you go again, drowning me in that romantic charm of yours."

"I've had a lot of practice," he grins.

"I do still love you," my fingers graze his chin.

"I know." His lips move forward to kiss me but are forced to halt when an unflattering yawn escapes my mouth. I move forward to kiss him again once I'm finished but he gives me a stern look, telling me to go to sleep. I need to sleep, but I don't want to. There's no point in arguing with Will though.

"I should get some rest," our hands slip apart. I'm disappointed he would give up so easily.

"Goodnight Elizabeth," I turn my back to him and start walking. Please stop me, Will. Please stop me.

A warm hand grabs my arm and spins me around. I'm greeted by Will's lips upon my mouth. I close my eyes and melt into his warmth, allowing his arms to encircle me. I loop mine around his neck and meddle with his hair.

"Stay with me," he whispers once we break apart.

"What?"

"Now. Tonight. For as long as possible," I'm a bit shocked at his suggestion "there's no need to pretend to be modest anymore, we were married once. You need me now as badly as I need you. If you'll still have me that is."

I smile at him playfully.

"Persuade me."

So it's a line a borrowed from Jack. An effect line nonetheless. I have to admit, Jack does have a way with words. Sometimes.


	9. Bring Back Witty Jack

Chapter 9: Bring Back Witty Jack

_Will_

I'm not sure when we fell asleep, or how long we've been sleeping, but as of right now Elizabeth rests peacefully against my chest, my arms draped over her. We are alone in my cabin, and through the small glass windows I can the last rays of sunlight disappearing under the horizon. Elizabeth shifts slightly into a more comfortable position. I can smell the sea in her soft hair. I kiss her forehead, reminding her just how much I love her, even in her sleep. A smile creeps along her lips and she moans softly in response.

"William Turna," I snap from my relaxed pose at the sound of another woman's voice. Tia Dalma sits in a chair across from me, displeasure apparent in her features, "I don't recall dis being part a' your destiny."

"Tia Dalma," I lift Elizabeth from my chest and place gently back onto my poor excuse for a bed, not wanting to wake her.

"Calypso," she corrects me.

"Of course," I rise and take a few steps toward her, crossing my arms over my chest, "and what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Dis," she leans back into her seat and twirls her wrist "Dis be not part a' da duty I gave you. You supposed ta be takin' dem souls who die at sea ta dem afterlife! Not chasin' a lost ship!"

I have angered a goddess, and she knows of our plan.

"I don't care who she is, William Turna," she nods in the direction of Elizabeth, "but she cannot stay 'ere. Neither can da rest a' dem! Dis ship was not meant to stay in da land a' da livin'."

Why fight when you can negotiate?

"With all do respect, Calypso, but you see, I was protecting you," she eyes me suspiciously.

"An' how might ya be doin' dat?" she questions. I pull up chair across from her and sit backwards on it, my arms leaning on the back of it.

"Ferrara wants the chest. Within the chest is my heart. Ferrara takes my heart, then he controls me, your humble servant," she smiles, "and by controlling me he would undoubtedly push for control of the seas, for control of you." I'm scheming, trying my best to come up with a good enough excuse to keep Elizabeth with me for as long as possible.

"An' da part where ya went on ta land?" she asks, angry again.

"It was my day. I was free to do with it whatever I so chose. I chose to save you," I think we can all afford to learn something from Jack every now and then. Sweet talk and flattery for instance, tends to work magnificently.

"An' den da part where ya go an' find witty Jack?"

"Simply so that he can lead us to Pearl, so we can trade it for the chest. If he's still alive that is."

Calypso smiles coyly as she crosses her legs and twirls one finger over a lock of hair. "Ah, William Turna' knows what he is doin'," I may have flattered her, but now I'm almost sure she can see right through me, "smart boy." She keeps on grinning as she gets up and paces about my cabin. She travels to my bed where Elizabeth is sleeping oblivious to our conversation. She fingers her locket as she stares down at my wife.

"Because I do not enjoy Captain Ferrara's presence on my ocean," Calypso turns her gaze back to me, "and because ya been loyal ta me, and because ya have a good heart," she smiles again, "I allow ya ta keep her and da others aboard, but only 'til ya have da chest and Captain Ferrara is no longa' a threat ta me. Once dats done William Turna', den you go back ta ya duty ta me."

I'm shocked. I hadn't actually expected her to be so lenient.

"Thank you,"

"Don't be thankin' me yet William. Der is still da problem a' ya findin' witty Jack,"

"Do you know where he is?"

"Aye," she is an answer to our prayers, "but he be where I cannot tell you."

I feel as though all the hope has been drained form me once more. Calypso looks to me, my face shattered in disappointment, then to Elizabeth again. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against Elizabeth's temple.

"I never said it be a place I cannot show you," she lifts her hand away from Elizabeth's face and walks steadily past me to the other side of the small room.

"What?" I can't help but be confused.

"She will know da way. It been in her dreams all along," my eyes leave Calypso for moment to visually search Elizabeth. She had mentioned her dreams before to me. She said she had dreamt of me each night, but could never remember in the morning. I start to ask Calypso what she has done to Elizabeth, but it would be useless. Calypso is gone. She has vanished from my cabin just as abruptly as she appeared.

_

* * *

_

_Elizabeth_

The warmth of Will's body next to mine vanishes, jolting me awake. The cabin is dark, but I can still see the faint outlines of the sparse furniture. The glass windows are gray with mist, blocking any image of the outside from entering. The ship is quiet. It's far too quiet. I can feel the fear growing inside me and try my hardest to keep it at bay.

"Will?" no answer. I rise from the bed gingerly. The wooden floor is cold on my bare feet. I can see my breath escaping me in small clouds of mist.

"Will?" I call out again, worry evident in my voice; still no reply. The floor creaks and groans as I walk across it. My hands push open the door. I'm greeted by a thick cloud of white fog, obscuring my vision. The entire ship has been engulfed. I walk with my hands stretched in front of me so to stop me from bumping into anything.

"Will!"

Willlll.

I turn sharply at the sound of my own voice calling back to me.

Will. Ill…

It's nothing but an echo. Everything else stays quiet. Either the crew has decided to play a cruel joke on me, or I am alone. I hate being alone.

The fog is so dense I can't see anything. I don't know which way I'm facing anymore, bow, stern, port, starboard; they're all mixed up.

"Wind in the sails. Wind in the sails," a squawking voice repeats. I turn to see Mr. Cotton's blue parrot sitting contently upon an unknown object within the fog.

"Where did you come from?" I ask it, fully knowing its inability to respond. He flaps his wings at me before flying from his hidden perch and deeper into the fog.

The only thing I can make out through the white mist is the bright and silver flicker of a single star, shining just ahead of me.

"Abandon ship. Abandon ship," it's but a speck of blue in the mist now. I'm sure this will turn out to be a stupid decision, but I follow, not wanting to be left alone. My steps are slow and cautious at first, but Cotton's parrot only seems to be picking up speed with each flap of its wings. I'm losing it. My pace quickens, not wanting to lose sight of those blue feathers. I'm catching up. I can see him clearer now, just a little farther.

In one step the deck collapses from under me and I fall into the abyss of fog. I open my mouth to scream but am not given the chance. My face stings when it collides with water, salt burning my eyes. I've swallowed a mouthful of sea water and it tastes awful.

I'm struggling to swim for the surface, my lungs on fire and stomach churning. My legs are becoming tangled in my long garments making it impossible for me to swim. My sight is cleaner under the water because of the lack of fog; it proves only helpful to see the white atmosphere above me fade farther and farther away. My heart is racing. I'm sinking. I'm afraid. I'm going to die.

Will. Save me.

Something sharp wraps itself around my ankles and tugs fiercely at my clothing. I try to kick myself loose from its hard grasp. My foot makes contact against something hard in a sickening wet crunch. The hand loosens and in my haste to get away I make the mistake of looking back down at it.

The bony hand of a white skeleton hovers just below my feet. Its skull is cracked and dented from where my foot collided with it. It stares blankly at me, slowly sinking to the ocean floor. All around me more skeletons float lifeless along the bottom. Their skulls are all focused on me in a silent and pitiful cry for help. I scream, but only bubbles emerge from my mouth reminding me of my need to breathe.

I kick for the surface, my limbs free and not looking back. When I break through I swallow huge gulps of air, thankful to be breathing again. The fog still surrounds me. Save for the skeletons I'm alone. My arms are growing tired, I can't paddle forever, I need to rest.

Just ahead of me a ragged plank of wood bobs along the waves. I reach it in seconds and pull myself onto faster then I thought possible. It's big enough to fit nearly my whole body, leaving only my legs dangling in the water. I cough up sea water, restraining my urge to vomit thinking of all those dead beneath me.

Ahead of me the white star clearly shines.

"Dead men tell no tales…" Cotton's parrot is near. I can hear it squawking but see nothing. No, I'm lying. I don't see nothing. The fog is lifting and I can make out the structures of a few large and jagged rocks peeking out from the water. They form giant points that remind me of teeth. They're everywhere, with no beginning and no end. My gaze follows one into the sky; its peak disappears amongst the mist.

Something soft grazes against my knuckles, holding tightly to my board. I look down again. A small, green piece of fabric floats lazily past me. I pluck it from the water, finding a small bit of comfort in its familiarity. The hand I use to retrieve it is the same one that Will had bandaged earlier. The fabrics match. The cloth in my hand has tear along its edge. I tear big enough to bandage the palm of a hand. My heart sinks. I'm holding Will's bandana.

"Will? Will!" I call frantically, praying for a response, "Will!"

"Wiiillllll…" a slithery voice whispers back to me. I'm not alone, though I don't think I'll be enjoying whose ever company I'm in the presence of.

Something sleek touches my foot under water. I shriek and pull it as close to my chest as possible. Swimming just below are dozens of figures whose shapes I cannot determine. They're silvery beneath the water and glide gracefully as the circle me. Are they sharks? My heart beats faster. I cannot tell whether I'm shaking from fear or shivering from cold. Quick and shallow breaths that escape my mouth become one with the fog instantly.

"Some men have died…" a soft voice sings, hidden by the fog. I can hear the gentle splashing of liquid against solid, a boat is approaching.

"And some are alive…" the feminine voice is growing louder. I can see the faintest outline of a person, sitting in a small dinghy coming closer.

"And others sail on the sea…" I can see the person more clearly now, heading straight for me at a slow pace. The boat she sits in isn't quite the dinghy I thought it to be, but more of an almost flat canoe. She paddles herself along with a long thin pole.

"With the keys to the cage…" her voice is familiar, as is the song she sings but I cannot place it. The slippery figures swimming below me scatter as she gets closer.

"And the Devil to pay…" she emerges from the fog. The girl is dressed in dark blue lose fitting clothing and a wide brimmed straw hat, completely round and forming a point on the top of her head, obscures her face.

"We lay to Fiddler's Green!" she only a few feet away now, surely she must see me. She turns away from me, back in the direction she came. She isn't coming for me.

"Wait! Stop!" I yell. She doesn't stop, only rotates her head slightly to look at me over her shoulder. She's seen me! She lifts her chin, revealing the face beneath the hat. My blood freezes. She's me. My reflection stares back at me unaffected.

"The bell has been raised from its watery grave…" she sings back to me, before she continues away from me. The silvery creatures that surrounded me before flee after my double, disappearing into the fog.

"Do you hear its sepulchral tone?" her—my—voice is fading into the mist, those other figures following after as though I was the Pied Piper himself.

Soon it's quiet again, though it does not last long. I can hear the roar of a wave rushing up behind me. Before I can react the wave picks up my pathetic raft and swallows us whole. I'm rolling and churning within the water, unable to gain control of my own body. I open my eyes only after the turbulence stops. When I do I'm greeted by a gigantic orange orb of an eyeball, the size of my head if not bigger.

A second wave rushes me away again before I can get a better look. The wall of water smacks me hard against a sandy beach before receding. I cough again, spitting up salt water from my lungs. The wet sinks from my weight and sticks to my wet body. A grayish white crab scurries by, heading farther up the beach.

I lift my head to investigate my surroundings. I'm on a beach, but a tiny one, lined by rocks and littered with broken caskets. Above two towers, made purely of stone, form sharp points reaching into the sky. High above me a thin bridge connects them in midair.

The ground begins to shake under my feet. I scream as it lurches upward, tossing me off of my feet. I hit solid ground painfully, scraping my elbows. Somehow I've landed on the bridge, the tiny beach I was just standing on now a speck below me.

Directly above me the same white star I've followed shines bright and alone in the black sky. Torches have been lit and hung into the sides of the rock. Hanging next to me is long rusted cage, a corpse decomposing inside it. Crows have gathered in and around the cage scavenging for their supper. I have to look away and cover my mouth to keep from vomiting once more.

"Bring back witty Jack..." a voice, Calypso's I know it. She whispers, almost laughing, in the wind. I can't see her, but somehow I can feel her there, a presence all around me.

"Bring back Jack?" I repeat. At the end of the bridge two gigantic doors cut out of one of the stone towers swing open, as if on cue. A gapping hole in the side of the rock leads into a dark corridor. Down the corridor torches light themselves, two by two, continuously until I can see their path no more. Bats squeak as they fly past, happy to feel freedom.

"Witty Jack..." Calypso whispers again, followed by another bit of laughter.

"From there?!" I shout. She doesn't answer me. I didn't think she would. What does Jack do to keep getting himself into these sort of messes?

Reluctantly I venture into the cave, making sure to grab one the torches from the rocky wall. The walls are slimy and moist, the corridor is cold and the last thing I want is to travel deeper into it.

In one long, drawn out creak the large doors slam shut behind me. The cave is drenched in darkness, the torches' soft glow is not nearly enough light. I wish Will was here. I have to keep going though. It's too late to turn back now.

"The bell has been raised from its watery grave," I sing, slow and deliberate, to comfort myself in the dark. One foot in front of the other. One step forward, and then another and another.

"Do you hear its sepulchral tone?" rats crawl between my ankles and I cringe at the thought of those who have traveled this cave before me, and did not return.

I reach a set of crude stairs carved into the rock. The torches continue downward, and so must I. The deeper I travel the colder the stale damp air becomes. I hold my torch ahead of me defensively, should anything take me by surprise. The stairs narrow. My feet begin to slip and pebbles tumble down my pathway. I hear their journeys echo within the cave for a few minutes before they are out of range.

"Jack Sparrow you bloody well appreciate this," I grumble through gritted teeth. I feel as though I've been walking for hours on end. I'm cold and damp and this blasted corridor still leaves me feeling uneasy.

"La la la da da...and really bad eggs," my breath catches in my throat. The drunken rambling of Captain Sparrow are unmistakable. A pocket of bright light is just ahead of, but I cannot see around its bend. Jack is in there, he must be.

"Jack?" I call out, hoping desperately for answer and that I'm not just imagining things, "Jack Sparrow?" I'm closer to the crevice now and the light brightens, "Jack!" I call out again. No answer. Up ahead of me I can see a tinge of blue coat, deep black hair coupled with a red bandana resting against the rock. His back is to me, but I know it to be Jack. I break into a smile first, relieved to have finally found him and then a run, anxious to reach him.

"Jack Sparrow!" I practically giggle, dropping by torch. I stretch out my hand to touch his shoulder. When I do Jack Sparrow does not turn to me and make some snappy remark of my distaste for rum. I pile of dusty old bones collapse at my feet. The hollow bones are dressed in Jack's blue coat, and still have his dread locks and braided beard growing from them

I scream louder then ever before.

_Elizabeth..._


	10. Savvy?

This Chapter is for all those Captain Jack lovers out there. Enjoy.

Chapter 10: Savvy?

_Will_

Elizabeth is screaming in her sleep. I fear the worst. She thrashes violently between the sheets, tangling her self amongst them. I rush to her side, eager to comfort her. Her brow is soaked with sweat causing strands of her delicate her to stick to her cheeks. Her eyebrows furrow and she grimaces at whatever horrid image she sees behind her lids.

"Elizabeth…"

I'm practically forced to pin one of her arms down to keep from winging at me. My other hand strokes her chin. I whisper her name as soothingly as possible but I doubt she can her me in her nightmare. I sit beside her, doing all that I can to wake her gently, and not panic myself at the same time.

"Jack!" She shouts, eyes closed tightly, "Jack!" her voice is raspy and I can clearly hear the sadness within it. Tears form at the corners of her eyes and she screams again. Hearing her call for Jack during her nightmare makes my soul want to split in two. Could she have always had feelings for him and I was just too blind to notice?

"Will…" Elizabeth whispers, finding me with radiant open eyes. She stares up at me and I down at her. We both say nothing. Her irises are an unseeing void. Her dream has left her breathing heavily and face still wet with perspiration. My hand still has her arm pinned to the bed. I contemplate whether or not I want to release her. She blinks taking in a deep breathe and then releasing it. My grip on her am loosens.

"Elizabeth?" She blinks again, this time fully waking from her slumber.

"The star!" she gasps and bolts upright, knocking our foreheads together. We both hiss in pain, rubbing our sore skulls.

"The what?" I ask her. She doesn't respond but bolts from my cabin with extreme haste. I follow her. She marches past those of the crew still awake, including our newcomers.

"What star Elizabeth?" heads turn in my direction, then back to her. She grabs hold of a rope, hoisting herself to stand on the ship railing. She points straight ahead of us.

"That star! Over there!" the crew, my self included, has gathered at her sides in curiosity. Where she points, far ahead of us, a white star glows bright and alone. It is a cloudless night, yet only this one star shines.

"I saw it in a dream," she explains, "Calypso showed it to me. I think she wants me to follow it. It will lead us to Jack!"

_Jack…_

At the sound of Calypso's name my men whisper their fears and doubts to one another. Not every pirate is willing to trust in Calypso. They make no attempt to move. Elizabeth glances at me pleadingly. I recall my visit from Calypso earlier, a visit Elizabeth was unaware of. My faith rests solely in her now.

"Men!" I shout, "Adjust our course. Head for that star and make sure we do not lose sight of it! If Calypso is showing us they way to Jack Sparrow then we have no choice but to follow!" They snap to their duties without a moment's hesitation. Their disapproving grumbles however do not go unnoticed.

I offer my hand to Elizabeth to help her from her perch. She pauses for a moment. Andy has offered her his hand as well. She gives a wary smile before sliding her smooth hands into both of ours, allowing us both to help her down.

"Thank you," she says more politely than necessary.

"You're welcome," Andy and I answer her at the same time. She giggles slightly at our chivalry. I find myself happy to simply see her smile. We move closer to together.

"Captain!" a crewman calls. I hate him for his interruption.

"I suppose they'll be needing you in the helm,"

"Unfortunately," she chuckles lightly. In my best impression of suave I give her hand a swift kiss and turn away.

"Will!" she holds me by the shoulder. Our lips meet in one sweet and fleeting kiss. When we part she smiles at me, proud of her spontaneity. We walk our separate ways then; no other words are needed between us. I only regret leaving her side when Andy rushes to fill my place beside her.

**_

* * *

_**

**_Ferrara_**

The needle of Jack Sparrow's pathetic compass quivers and alters its direction once again. A compass that will lead me to whatever it is I want most, what a useless object. Fifteen years it took to find that chest and key. Now the later is missing again, taken aboard the Flying Dutchman. The heart of the Dutchman's captain beats steadily in its chest. How revolting. Yet, no more than a foot away from me sits immortality just out of my reach.

I would be immortal by now, sailing to find my rightful ship, if it weren't for that bratty girl. Thanks to her and her friends aboard the Dutchman one of my yachts was lost. One of my very _expensive _yachts. I can't help but wonder why the captain of the Flying Dutchman would risk life and limb (well not life) to aid that little whore. What ever happened to Davy Jones?

The compass's needle switches direction. Damn relic. At this rate I'll never find the Black Pearl again. Jack Sparrow you bastard, you knew this would happen.

I think back to my last encounter with that pesky bird fifteen years ago.

"I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement," Jack Sparrow says to me in his natural slur. He flashes me a smile of gold teeth. His arms float drunkenly beside him and somehow even when standing still he manages to swagger. He also believes himself to be a master of negotiation. He is wrong.

"I'm afraid we can't Mr. Sparrow,"

"Captain, actually…"

"_Not_ until you to me where you have hidden the Pearl," I give him one last chance to confess. Instead he flashes me another toothy grin.

"Ya know I can't do that, mate," I hate every single one of his golden chipped teeth.

"Fine," a compass hangs from Jack's belt. I've heard of this compass. It's a tool that can lead you to whatever it is you want most. I know what I want most. I snatch the compass from Sparrow's belt.

"No…" he grimaces, squinting and curling his upper lip. He takes an unbalanced step toward me; an arm outstretched pointing at me in a lazy fashion. My loyal body guards keep him in his place. His hand curls into a loose fist when he realizes they'll be no getting this compass back.

"Lock him up," my guards loop their arms through his and drag him by his heels. I turn my back to that disgrace of a man.

"Wait! Wait! I'm 'aving a thought 'ere, mate!" Sparrow pleas, "'Ow bout I give ya the name a' the one you been lookin' for, and 'ow bout if I do, let's say…you let me go. Sound like a fair trade, donit?"

Jack Sparrow is an ignorant fool who does not realize how much I truly hate him.

"How can I be sure of a name given to me by one who cannot be trusted?" he grins.

"_Or_ you could try and find the bloody pirate all by ya self. But my guess is, that 'asn't been working too well for ya so far. Otherwise ya wouldn't be needin' me compass now would you?" his hand is an arrow, twirling and pointing haphazardly at the utmost random places. It annoys me, "So I'm willin' to relinquish said information in exchange for me freedom," he aims both index fingers at me as if they were pistols and raises a brow, "savvy?"

"A fair trade?" I move closer to Jack, my interest peaked, "I suppose that would be a fair trade,"

"Yes it would," he nods enthusiastically.

"So then Jack Sparrow, give me the name," let Sparrow think he's won this round.

His eyes peer suspiciously at my guards. He doesn't trust them of course. I never expected him too. He motions with his finger to lean closer, so I do. He too inches closer to me until I can smell his rum drenched breath on my face. His lips practically touch my ear as he whispers, ever so faintly, the name of The Pirate King.

Jack Sparrow should not have trusted me. Freedom is not something he can simply trade me for.

"Captain," there is a knock at my door, causing me to surface from my memory. Diego, my most loyal of body guards stands in the frame. He is a tall and threatening man, with a long scar running a straight line down the left side of his face. It spans from his forehead, right over his eye, all the way down to his chin. I did not know Diego before he received this scar, nor do I care to find out how he received it. All I can be sure of is that the one who gave him that mark is not still alive to tell about it. Diego is a professional at what he does: inflicting pain.

"Ah, Diego, how is our new little friend doing?" some of my men managed to pick up a drunk from a pub on a nearby island when they went for new supplies. Apparently from the way this man boasted he is in possession of some vital information to me.

"He is stubborn Captain," my well trained dog replies.

"I think that I may have to pay him a visit then," Diego trails a few steps behind me as we travel into a different compartment below deck. This cabin is bare save for the small man bound to the chair in the center of the room, and two of my men watching over him. This bald man is no larger than a child. His feet don't even touch the floor. I notice that three fingers on his left hand are crooked and purple, Diego's doing no doubt. The little man and I study each other for a moment.

"Where is the Pirate King?" I ask him.

"I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about!" he spits at my feet. The bastard is lying. Let me make this simple for him.

"Mr. Martin is it? Now according to my men Mr. Martin you were practically bragging of how you once sailed with Jack Sparrow and the Pirate King. I'll let you in on a little secret Mr. Martin, I am looking for the Pirate King and if you tell me where he is then maybe, just _maybe_, I'll let you live."

"Like I said," he sneers, "I have the slightest idea of what you're talking about." Sometimes loyalties can be such a nuisance. I'm tired of this game of endless searching. I want my ship. I snap open the lid of my compass, the arrow points unwavering to my right.

"Finish his fingers," I whisper to Diego as I leave to give the rest of the crew my heading, "if he still isn't talking, break everything else until he does."


	11. Some Men Have Died

Chapter 11: Some Men Have Died

_Elizabeth_

An hour has passed since I woke from my dream, my nightmare. A fog has rolled in, thick and dangerous. Will leads the Flying Dutchman in the right direction, towards my star still shining despite the mist. I sit on the floor of the deck, knees drawn into my chest and my arms locked around them. I allow the breeze to play with my hair, making no attempt to fasten it. Andy sits beside me. Somehow he roped me into explaining the fuzzy details of Gibbs's story to him. I listen, but every now and then I drift away from our conversation to steal a glimpse of Will, only to find him stealing a glimpse of me at that moment.

"So let me get this straight," Andy continues, "Jack Sparrow is this loopy pirate, with this valuable ship that Ferrara wants. You plan to find the ship and trade it with Ferrara for what we want," He points his thumb back at Will, "_He_ had his heart cut out and put in that chest so that he could be Mr. Grim Reaper of the seas and lives forever. Only problem is he can only go on land once every ten years. _You_ happen to be the reincarnation of his fellow pirate wife?"

I nod, "Basically,"

"And Gibson and Ann are reincarnated pirates too?"

"Yes,"

"And the two of you were _married,"_ he hates the idea of mine and Will's marriage, I can tell.

"Andy we've gone over that four times already,"

"Yeah I know but it's just a little hard for me to come to grips with this whole magical pirate, reincarnation, supernatural, defying the laws of biology thing,"

"And the fact that Will and I are married," Andy grimaces. I used the present tense instead of past.

"Do you seriously love that guy?" Andy has been hoping to rekindle our flame for ages. I feel a bit sorry, knowing that I'm crushing his hopes.

"Yes," he nods solemnly. For a little while he's silent and won't make eye contact with me. I simply watch him as he watches the floor. The air grows heavy between us. I've upset him and I know it.

"Do you ever think that there's a chance of us getting back together?" he still watches the floor.

"When? Before or after the pirates attacked us?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

"Both," he replies in the same tone. He wants me to answer him honestly. I look up at Will, he smiles at me. I look back at Andy, my usually lighthearted and cheerful friend Andy. His mood is dark. I change my gaze so that I'm staring at our beacon star.

"No," it's the truth. Even if I had never of met Will again in this lifetime my heart still belonged to him. I never felt about Andy the way I feel for Will. It couldn't have worked.

"No?" I fear I've crushed him again, "No for when? Now or before the pirates attacked us?" he's replacing his disappointment with a façade of his usual attitude.

"Both. I'm sorry Andy. My heart--,"

The Dutchman jerks and bumps against something hard in the water. The ship rocks and for a moment I lose my balance.

"Will?" Andy pulls me to my feet.

"Seems we've run a ground," We lean over the rail to get a better view. Anamaria and Gibbs join us. I recognize this place from my dreams. Jagged rocks surge up from the water to form sharp points of all sizes. An uneasy feeling ignites in the pit of my stomach. I remember how much I disliked this place.

"What's that sound?" Gibbs asks as a flash of silver swims beneath the Dutchman.

"I don't hear anything," Anamaria tells him.

"No, no, just listen," Andy insists. Anamaria and I exchange glances, we still don't hear anything, "What is that?"

"What is what?" Anamaria is an easily frustrated person.

"That noise!" A crewman answers us.

"It's lovely," says another.

Every man aboard has stopped working. They wonder about the deck in a daze, head tilted toward the invisible sound. Their eyes begin to glaze. Each one inches closer and closer the edge of the deck. Smiles spread across their grimy cheeks. Even Andy and Gibbs have become transfixed. Anamaria tries to shake them, but they ignore her as if she didn't exist at all. It's like they've become hollow.

I rush to Will's side. Even his eyes have begun to glaze; a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. His grip on the wheel loosens.

"Will! Will what is it?" he pauses for moment, not looking at me.

"It's singing," he says simply. He releases the wheel and walks zombie like across the deck. The boat swerves, many of the men lose their balance and trip over themselves. I snatch the wheel before we run into any real damage along those rocks.

"Sirens!" Anamaria shouts, "It must be! They want us dead," she pulling a drunk looking pirate away from the edge, where moment before he was about to dive off. Sirens. Sirens are seductive creatures that lure sailors to their deaths by singing their beautiful songs. Now I know what happened to all those skeletons I saw in my dream.

"You've got to be kidding me," One by one the men aboard collapse into heap. Andy, Gibbs and Bootstrap are among them. Will is dangerously close the edge.

"Anamaria take the wheel!" I yell. She listens and is replacing my grip with hers in record time. I fling myself at Will, grabbing him by both shoulders. His eyes are glossy, his arms are limp and if didn't know any better I'd say he was sleep walking.

"Will!" I shake him, "Will look at me!" he doesn't look at me, but at the figures of silver coated half naked women, crawling seductively onto the rocks. Their mouths open in song but cannot hear them. I force Will to look at me, placing my palms on either side of his face.

"Will you mustn't listen to them!"

"That won't work!" Anamaria shouts, "we have to stir out of this ourselves!" the number of women posed on the rocks multiples. They won't let us simply stir out.

"Will!" he sways forward, "Will wake up!" he slumps forward against me. He is heavy on my chest as I guide him to the deck floor. I stifle a cry at the sight of my husband as useless as a rag doll on the floor. Our boat nags against the rocks.

_Some men have died, and some are alive…_

The song from my dream, the song from the golden age of piracy; I was singing it. I remember seeing myself sing it, luring those silver creatures away from the me in danger.

"Will please wake up!" I kiss him hard, praying it will rouse him. He does nothing but blink a few times, still lost in the Siren's spell, "I'll be right back," I whisper into his ear, before leaving him alone on the deck.

"Anamaria, make sure to keep the Dutchman out of the rocks," I pull at the longboat, it plops into the water belong.

"What do you think I've been doing, _sightseeing_?!" she retorts. I climb over the edge of the ship, "Where do you think you're going?!"

"You'll need a distraction,"

"You're mad! Those things will kill you!" I glance once more at Will, lying limp on the ground. I shrug.

"I'm in love," with that I leave Anamaria to take care of the ship and crew by herself. I jump into the longboat and paddle the oars as hard as I can away from the Dutchman. I pray this plan works.

_

* * *

_

_Will_

The music is beautiful, like an angel singing to me from heaven. It lulls me into a peaceful daze from which I have no desire to leave. The world around has disappeared, all that's left is the irresistible singing. I wish I could follow the song into the water, but I'm far too relaxed to even move. I want to stay like this forever, listening to the tempting tune.

A pair of warm lips presses themselves firmly against mine. I hadn't known any one else was around. Perhaps the one who kissed me is the one making that wonderful music. "I'll be right back," the angel whispers in my ear.

Elizabeth is an angel.

_Elizabeth_, the name feels foreign in my mind.

The angel I watch, unmoving, forces a smile at me. Her big brown eyes are wet. Her skin looks like porcelain. When she lifts her had from my cheek my body feels cold and stiff. She leaves me, the wind blowing her long cinnamon hair behind her.

_Elizabeth…_

She exchanges words with another I cannot understand, before glancing longingly back at me.

"I'm in love," she says. Her thin frame disappears from my sight. The splashing of oars in water interrupts the intoxicating melody with each harsh stroke. The haze in my mind begins to clear.

_Elizabeth…_

The angel is leaving the ship. She has taken the longboat and is rowing away from us. Why?

That sweet melody is pushing its way into my head again. No. I can't listen to it. She told me not to, my angel, my…

"Elizabeth!" I shout, shooting myself up from the deck of my ship. My mind is no longer a fog. The song is nothing but a faint ringing in my ear and holds no power over me anymore.

"She's gone," Anamaria is at the wheel. I look around; the deck is cluttered with the unconscious bodies of my crew. My father lies helplessly not far from me.

"Gone?" I still can't figure out what happened to us. But the song…

"Sirens!" Anamaria answers my thoughts, "she went to lure them away, took the longboat. She's mad!"

I peer over the edge of the ship, not far from us is Elizabeth, rowing away. The sirens, women covered in silver, follow her with their eyes. Some jump in the sea after her.

"I need a gun!"

_

* * *

_

_Elizabeth_

"Some men have died," I sing and row at the same time, putting as much distance between me and the Flying Dutchman as possible. I trust Anamaria to be able to navigate the ship through these rocks, but to lure away the sirens is my job. I only hope my plan works, at least long enough for Anamaria to bring the others to safety.

"And some are alive," A siren snaps her head in my direction. I've caught her attention. Her icy blue eyes follow me in my dinghy with a hungry look.

"And others sail on the sea," Several other sirens turn their heads in my direction in deadly fascination. The one who spotted me first crawls her way down from the rocks and slithers beneath the water where I can no longer see her,

"With the keys to the cage, and the Devil to pay…" all eyes on me. The poise sirens abandon the jagged rocks and sneak back into the water. The watch me like the hunters they are, just waiting for me to slip up and become their next victim.

"We lay to Fiddler's Green,"

"_Greennnn…"_a slimy and putrid voice hisses.

"The bell has been raised from its watery grave," my oar hits something solid when I row. I ignore it and keep moving. Groups of wet silver haired heads emerge from the water. They rise no further then eye level, watching me intently as I row.

"Do you hear its sepulchral tone?" I ask them. They say nothing to me; but simply swim along after me. They're chasing me. Toying with is more like it. They can catch me easily if they wanted, but instead swim just slow enough to follow my every move.

"We are a call to all, pay head the squall," a webbed hand armed with razor nails creeps its way into my boat. I give it a fierce jab with my heel and it retreats.

"And turn your sail toward home!" an oar is yanked from my grasp. I make no attempt to jump in after it. The second oar vanishes into the water. Again I don't move. They can bait me all they want, I will not move.

"Yo ho all together, hoist the colours high,"

BANG

A shot echoes off the rocks. The sirens scatter in surprise. Something slimy and wet slumps against my back, I scream as a siren slips off me, dead. A hole has been torn in her flesh by a gunshot.

"Elizabeth!" my gaze shoots up. Aboard the Dutchman Will has looped his arm and legs through one of the ships net like ropes. A gun smokes in his hands. He's alright! "Take the line!" he shouts, tossing a long rope after me. It splashes just over a foot away.

A second webbed hand pops grab and claws at the inside of my dinghy. Without hesitation I unsheathed my sword and plunge into the scaly hand. The siren it's attached to shrieks and wails the most horrifying high pitched sounds. If I listen to this any long my ears will probably fall off.

I lunge for the rope while the injured siren is distracted. The cold water seeps through my clothing with ease. I hate that I had to leave the semi-safety of the longboat. Here I am in their territory, and I am vulnerable.

My hands curl into firsts around my rescue line at the same time a slick hand latches to my ankle. Just below the clear surface a distorted face snarls at me, jerking at my captive ankle. Ugly hag. I jab my heel ferociously at her, crushing her fragile nose. I officially hate sirens.

There's a giant heave from the opposite end of my rope and I lurch forward. Sirens chase after me and I kick at them till I'm pulled from the ocean. Water cascades from me like a waterfall off my soggy clothes. When I'm hovering over the Dutchman I release the rope and fall to the deck in a wet heap.

"Elizabeth!" Will is at my side immediately, helping me to my feet, "I'm sorry. I—"

"_You_ rescued me!" I throw my arms over his neck in joy. I knew Will would be able to break the sirens spell.

"Captain!" Anamaria holds the end of a net in her hands, draping it over the side of the ship. Inside the net rest four barrels. She reaches behind her and tosses Will a pistol, loaded and ready. "They're catching up to us," she's right. The sirens race for us with endless fury, singing their invisible song. Will sways a bit when he hears them sing, but quickly recovers."Release the barrels!" he orders, marching to her side.

"Aye Captain!" she cuts the net with a miniature blade, the four barrels tumble into the sea. They create a small barrier between us and our attacks. Will aims his pistol at a single barrel and waits. He wants those bloody sirens to get closer, once they do…

BANG

He fires. His shot does not miss, and hits one of the barrels dead on. It explodes in a massive flame. Sparks fly from it onto its fellow barrels, igniting them as well. They were filled with gun powder. The sirens shriek and retreat when they encounter the flaming mass. Waves of thick black smoke dance into the air that obscure our view. Behind the wall of smoke angry sirens perch themselves on their rocks, defeated. The fire burns strong enough to keep them at bay. We have escaped.

Will curves his arm over the small of my back and I do the same for him. We turn away from our fiery barrier and set our sights on the dark horizon. In the distance the white star winks, urging us to come closer. I rest my head against his chest.

"What now Captain?" Anamaria asks from the helm. The other members of the crew remain sleeping peacefully. I think it may be awhile before any of the come back around.

"I suppose," he looks to me for reassurance, "we keep following that star?"

"What choice do we have?"


	12. Here There Be Monsters

Thanks again for all the great reviews, keep 'em coming!

Usual disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean. I don't even own the soundtrack, I downloaded it of the internet.

Enjoy!

Chapter 12: Here There Be Monsters

**_Andy 2004_**

Tonight is my first date with Lizzie. I can't remember when I started liking her as anything more then a friend, just that it's been for kind of a while now. Jeff was the only one I told, and he's been pressuring me to ask her out ever since. Well I finally worked up the courage to do so in school on Friday and much to my surprise she said yes.

"Ah, Andrew," Lizzie's father greets me at the door, "Elizabeth will be right down. Why don't you come in?"

"Here I am!" Liz is at the door in an instant, looking beautiful in her sundress. Her long curls are half pinned and half flowing over her back and shoulders. A few small ringlets frame her lovely face. She doesn't need to use nay makeup like some of the other girls our age do.

"Take care of her," Liz's father says to me before we leave, "at least for now." He sighs. I try to ignore that hint of sadness in his tone.

"So where to?" Lizzie asks in her cure accent.

"To this brilliant little Chinese place that I know you'll just adore," I mimic her accent trying to impress her. I'm terrible at it. This makes her laugh for a moment. She stops abruptly, her gaze fixed on something behind me.

"Oh. Isn't that beautiful?" she asks no one in particular. I turn to face the sandy beach we've been walking alongside. In the distance the golden sun is setting into the horizon with the most spectacular assortment of colors. Reds, oranges, pinks and yellows all mingle together with the blues of the sky and the sea to create a fantastic light show. Liz hums an unrecognizable tune beside me, saying nothing as we watch the sunset fall. One by one stars blink to life in the velvet sky.

"Where we will, we'll roam…"Lizzie finishes her song softly when the sun fades from view.

"What's that?" I ask, referring to the song. She blinks at me, puzzled.

"What's what?" we stare at each other for a few seconds, and then I decide to drop the subject. I wouldn't want to ruin the first date.

"Here we are," I say once we've reached our destination, "Jade of the Sea, gourmet Chinese cuisine." Because we live on an island every business owner feels morally obligated to name their shops or restaurants with special homage to the ocean. Of the Sea, by the Sea, and Smack dab in the middle of the Sea happen to be very popular phrases around here.

We chat and laugh like the carefree sixteen year olds we are over fired rice and egg rolls. I adore Lizzie's accent and find myself hanging on her every word because of it. Her eyes are dazzling, especially when she's laughing. Just like when she laughed as I failed to master the art of chop sticks. Her smiles is infectious, I think the entire dining room gets a little brighter every time she grins. My heart beats a little bit faster when her hand brushes against mine as she reaches for the soy sauce. It's not long before I'm wishing we could be done with dinner already so we can go somewhere alone. What would she do if I leaned over the table and kissed her right now?

"Your Majesty…" a man whispers behind me while Liz is bent over her lo mien. I look up.

"Are you enjoying you meal?" the man asks. I recognize him to be the owner with his bald head and black goatee (that I don't think her trims). I can't seem to think of his name though. Liz notices his presence once he and speaks and smiles again, releasing butterflies into my stomach. She nods too, giving her compliments to the chef I think. the Chinese guy opens his palms, revealing a fortune cookie in each.

"For you," he offers, "our specialty."

"Thank you," Liz, all smiles, takes the cookie from his nearest extended hand. I take the cookie from his other. He gives us both a small bow before walking away to check on some of his other costumers.

"What's yours say?" I ask Liz.

"_The sun will never set on love or royalty,_" she answers in mock seriousness, cookie crumbs sticking to her inviting lips. "What about yours?" she asks after a swallow. I hadn't even opened mine yet I was so preoccupied with watching Liz devour hers. I crack apart the flaky cookie and slip out the small strip of paper. My fortune says only one thing:

_Sacrifice. _

"Well?" Liz prompts.

"Have a nice day," we laugh, her genuine, mine forced.

"How cliché," she says between giggles.

_

* * *

_

_Elizabeth_

"Land ho!" Rusty shouts from the crow's nest. I'm not surprised to see the same foreboding island from my dream ahead of us. The many torches lit make it visible through the white fog. The star glimmers directly above the stone towers of the island. Jack Sparrow is there.

After our encounter with the sirens it took nearly an hour for every man aboard to regain consciousness. Most of them can't remember a single that happened before or during their sleep. Will made sure praise was given to Anamaria and me for saving the Dutchman from certain doom upon the rocks. Andy was upset that, as he put it, he "missed all the fun".

The rocks too gave us quite a bit of trouble. The sharp masses protruding from the sea proved difficult to navigate. Even at a slow pace and without the sirens. It felt like hours before we saw the end of that obstacle and were in open water once more. The ocean remained stale and calm as we sailed through, too calm for anyone's liking.

"I know this place," Mr. Gibbs says as we approach.

"How?" Will asks.

"It was all them years ago, Captain Jack led us here to retrieve somethin' a value for 'em," Gibbs explains to us in his usual story-teller manner.

"And that something of value was…?" I prompt, unable to withstand the silence. Gibbs contemplates this question for a moment, leaving us hanging on his every thought.

"A drawin'," he sighs.

"A drawing?" Will repeats, "A drawing of what?"

"A drawin', o' the key to the Dead Man's Chest," Gibbs raises his brows, excited at his own tale. Will's face is etched in memory for a moment.

"This is where he got that?" he asks. Gibbs nods.

"This be a frightfully terrible place Will. It was used as a place o' punishment and torture," I wonder if Gibbs's mystique while telling stories is a natural talent of his or something he picked up along the way, "Men be kept in chains and cages, just waitin' fer the crows to devour 'em, bit by bit. The dead be tossed into the sea in wooden coffins, an' left to float till either some sorry sap find 'em or the birds get to 'em. No one knows exactly why a place like this was established. Some say it started as a prison to condemn witches. Others say it was meant fer us pirates. All I know is, once ye go inside, there ain't no comin' back out."

"Then how did Jack escape?" Will asks this question, almost jokingly, fully knowing the embellishment of Gibbs's tale. Mr. Gibbs mulls over the answer in his head before saying:

"Sea turtles?" and shrugs. Will rolls his eyes as he walks away, heading for the bow. I'm not quite sure if Andy understands the significance of sea turtles when it comes to Jack Sparrow, but if he doesn't he'll find out soon enough.

I look ahead us and study the distance from the Dutchman to the beach. It's not too far, but we don't seem to be getting any closer either. Not even with the wind in our favor. The ocean is so calm I can't even feel the gentle sway of the ship anymore. Perhaps my sea legs have returned with the ability to surpass the ones before.

"Why are we not moving?" Will questions, peering over the side of his ship. He isn't loud but still manages to catch the attention of everyone on board. Soon we're all leaning over, peering down into the dark, murky and unmoving water. The Flying Dutchman has halted, and none of us can figure out why.

"Perhaps we've hit the shallows, Captain," Bootstrap offers, "shores not too far off and the waters dark. Hard to see anything down there."  
We keep staring down at the water, hoping it will magically reveal the secret of the complication to us. The glass surface is broken by the quickest of ripples, generating from directly beneath us. The ripple is paired with a low rumbling sound, much like thunder, muffled slightly by the vast ocean.

"Did you see that?" I ask Bootstrap, peering over the same ledge as I am. He nods nervously, careful not to remove his eyes from the sea.

"Not more sirens?!" Anamaria complains, "I've had it up to here with bloody sirens!" she stomps about the ship, glancing over each edge and coiling a rope around her arm. "I'm tying each and every one of you to the mast this time!" she warns. She continues her coiling and paranoiac glances over the edge while muttering curses toward every siren who ever lived.

I glance ahead of us. Bootstrap is right, the shores not too far off.

"I'll go from here," I say, "we still have one row boat left. I'll just take it to go get Jack from here. Meanwhile you can figure out what's wrong with the ship." By the expressions on everyone's faces, nobody is pleased with this suggestion.

"You're not going alone!" I expected this from Will, but instead the protest comes from Andy.

"I'll be fine,"

"He's right," Will is at my side, "I'll go with you." Andy's jaw drops. He obviously wanted to be the first to offer me his protection. I'd love it if Will came with me, but…

"Will you can't," I say feeling guilty, "remember, once every ten years." The realization that he cannot follow me where ever I go spreads thickly across his face. He hates being confined to this ship.

"Then I'll send my father with you," he compromises. Bootstrap agrees, he too looking out for the best interest of his daughter-in-law.

"I'm going too!" Andy insists, "There's no way I'm letting you out of my sights Liz!" Will knuckles are turning white he's gripping the hilt of his sword so hard.

Another rumble moans beneath us. The sea shakes this time instead of a mere ripple. The ship quakes as well and we all grab the closest thing in our reach as we lose our footing. I stumble into Will's scarred chest. A third thunderous rumble, louder then the last two, shakes us again. The smooth ocean surface is now cracked with small waves. We remain silent, dreading the worst.

An enormous ink black tentacled limb emerges from the water in a rush. The ship is sprayed with salt water as two more tentacles spring up beside the first. All our throats are paralyzed by either shock or fear. Our legs take steps backward without our mind's permission. I hold tight to Will's arm as the ominous black limbs hover above us, unmoving. I can't look away.

Another part of my dreams surfaces in my brain; a gigantic orange eyeball.

"Will?" I ask, my voice shaking with fear, "is that your giant sea monster?"

He swallows, "No."

"I didn't think so,"

The creature speeds into motion. It's ugly black limbs dive for the ship deck with incredible haste. Everyone aboard starts running about frantically, either panicking or searching for anything they can find to ward off the beast. Will and I turn to run for the other end of the ship, hand in hand. A monstrous tentacle races for us, we're force to detach in order to keep our arms. The tentacle slams into the deck, separating Will and I. The blow rocks the ship and I struggle to remain upright. Above me another tentacle hovers, a leap to avoid being hit.

In front me, at the opposite side of the at least four more black limbs have appeared. One takes hold of a member of Will's crew's leg and swings him violently through the air. I'm forced to stop short to avoid another tentacle and send myself sprawling onto the deck. The same tentacle rushes for me.

BANG

A shot is fired into its thick flesh. It shivers in pain before withdrawing the bloody limb back into the ocean. I scramble to feet. A rough hand grasps my shoulder and pulls me out of the way of an oncoming attack.

"Watch yer step Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Gibbs cautions, shot gun in his hand. I unsheathe my sword furiously, thrusting it into a disgusting limb just at the back of Gibbs's head. My sword impales it, sticking it to the outside wall of the Captain's quarters.

"And so should you," I tease. Gibbs nods, aware of how close to death we both had just come. I remove my sword from the monster, this limb to squirms and retreats to the sea. I leave Gibbs reloading his gun and through myself into the battle. Many men have picked up swords and hack wildly at the limbs. Some are lucky enough to make contact, others and either slammed or hurled across the deck. Like Gibbs, Anamaria has pick up a gun and fires at our attacker from her position in the helm. Andy is beside her, panicking and struggling to reload his authentic, 1700s one shot pistol while Anamaria talks him through it.

Will is across the deck, engaged in a heated battle between two tentacles attacking him from either side. One knocks over a fellow pirate, Will catches his falling sword and uses both to sever one of the tentacles. The second wraps itself around his leg, I shout his name but I don't think he can hear me. Will is forced on his back; I want to run to him but a long black tendril is attempting to wrap itself around the bottom of the mast. I jab my sword into it and saw through wrinkled skin and flesh.

On the other side, Will is being dragged to the edge of the deck. My heart sinks, I scream for him again, unable to do anything else to help him. Will lams into the deck rail with a bone crunching thud. The tentacle lifts him into the air, but Will is quick and slices through the tendril with ease using his two blades. I'm grinning wildly as the limb drops him and shrinks away into the ocean.

Something thick and solid wraps itself around my waist. I can hardly breathe beneath its crushing weight. As it hoists me roughly into the air is when I realize I've been snagged by the creature. My arms are still free, so I lift my sword ready to plunge it into the monsters slimy skin. I'm turned upside down and the sword falls out of my hands. "WILL!" I screech.

"Elizabeth!" Will sees me immediately. He pulls back his sword, anger written across his face as he aims. He throws his sword like a spear into his target. His aim is perfect, striking the tentacle where it had wrapped itself around me. If not for the thick tentacle his sword would have struck me in the stomach. The limb withers in pain and frees me from its tight hold. I plummet into the sea belong.

The water swirls around me, muting out the havoc above the surface. I try to kick to the top but only send myself deeper in my upside down pose. A wave from a submerging tentacle twists me so that I'm staring directly into the largest, orange coloured, eyeball I have ever seen. One of its limbs rushes upward, creating a suction that takes me along with it.

"Lizzie!" Andy spies me bobbing in the water and jumps in after, focused on rescuing me. I don't know how he intends to avoid the monster or get us back aboard the Dutchman. Andy and I swim for each other. "I gotcha," he gasps, clutching to my forearm.

"And now what?!" I yell. His face drops. He hadn't thought this far.

"Elizabeth!" Will shouts to me from the Dutchman, "Go!" he cuts the spare rowboat free. It splashes into the choppy water not far from where Andy and I float. Simultaneously Anamaria is knocked into the sea by an injured tentacle. Without Andy to watch her back she hadn't seen it coming. Like Andy did for, Gibbs dives in after her.

Andy and I climb into the rowboat. Gibbs surfaces. He swims for us, pulling Anamaria along with him. We help them into the boat as the chaos aboard the Dutchman grows. Another splash from behind alerts me; I rotate to see Bootstrap Bill pulling himself aboard. I help pull him over, and then glance up at Will again.

"We have to go, Elizabeth," Bootstrap urges. Will's dark chocolate eyes find mine again.

"Go!" he yells again, thrusting his saber into an unwelcome tentacle. Still our little rowboat does not budge. I look away from Will's fight.

"Go!" I repeat to Andy, he hesitates, unsure whether or not he should follow my instructions, "I said go!" I scream. He does no hesitate to pick up the oars and row us as fast as he can for the island this time. I glance back at Will on the Flying Dutchman. He does not turn to see me rowing away from him, but keeps on fighting instead. A knot forms in my stomach when realize I've already done this scenario before. Last time we left Jack for the Kraken, and it was my fault.


	13. Words Whispered Through Prison Bars

Hello all. Sorry its been taking me so long to update lately, writers block. I'd love to hear any predictions you loyal readers have for this story, maybe it will help to inspire me! haha.

Enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 13: Words Whispered Through Prison Bars

**_Andy_**

I, Gibson and the pirate called Bootstrap drag the little rowboat onto the beach. Ann hops from the boat before we're out of the waves as well, lending her vocal support. Luckily we managed to paddle ashore without being noticed by what I can only assume to be a giant squid. Oddly enough, only Ann and I seemed to be the only two thoroughly shocked and troubled with the appearance of this…thing. Perhaps sea monsters are a natural pirate occurrence? Perhaps I'm going crazy, or if I'm lucky this is all just some sort of bad dream.

While the rest of us stumble onto the beach, Lizzie sits unmoving in the rowboat. She stares longingly for at the Flying Dutchman under attack. I know she's thinking about that pirate, Will. He loves her and she loves him. Liz and I will never be together, I know this, but a part of me wishes she would look like that when thinking about me. It's the same part that is trying to convince the rest of me that she used to. While we were dating I'd sometimes sneak up on her while she watched the sunset, that same look of loneliness and desire spread across her pretty features. I used to think it was me inside her head, or the memory of the perfect sunset on our first date. That I was the one that occupied her most private thoughts the way she occupied mine. I'm starting to realize that it was never me who she thought about at all.

"Liz," I say softly, "Lizzie." I stretch out my hand to her. Her head turns slightly; she looks like she could burst into tears at any moment. "C'mon," I say, inching my hand closer. She studies it for a moment, before placing her delicate fingers in my palm. I help her onto the beach.

"Where to now Miss Elizabeth?" Gibson asks. They stand frozen on the beach, waiting for her reply. She says nothing, but for the moment I don't care. She still hasn't removed her hand from mine.

"Elizabeth," Bootstrap rests his hand on her shoulder. Her head snaps upright like she'd just been woken from a dream. "Will can take care of himself. I have faith in him, and so should you." he says in soothing tones, "he certainly has a lot of faith in you." he adds. This causes the corners of her mouth to curve ever so slightly, and the twinkle of her eyes to reappear.

"Now Jack," Bootstrap continues, "Is the one who we should be worried about."

Lizzie nods; her new found head strong and fiery personality returning. Her hand slips away from mine as she walks past us and for a gigantic rock sticking straight up out of the beach. "You're right. Jack is the one we've come here to rescue," I have to stop myself from reminding her that the only reason we're doing this "rescue" is so she can trade a ship for a heart.

"So where is he?" Ann impatiently asks.

Liz points, "In there."

I don't like the sound of that, "In there? You mean _anywhere_ inside one of the gigantic pillars of pure rock?"

Liz bites her lip, "Yes."

"And how do you suppose we get inside the giant pillars of rock?"

"I-I don't really know," she stutters. This is a disaster.

"What do you mean you don't really know?! There's a hungry sea monster offshore Lizzie, we don't exactly have time for 'I don't really know'! You're the one who led us here aren't you? Shouldn't _you_ know?"

"In my dream I was up there!" Liz yells defensively back at me, her arm pointing straight above our heads, "I don't know how I got there Andy I was dreaming! All I do know is that Jack Sparrow is inside and he had to get in somehow so we should be able to as well! And yes, I am very much aware of the hungry sea monster just off shore trying its very best to devour my husband!"

She stalks away from me, fuming, before I can reply. Bootstrap, Gibson and Ann stare at me with wide eyes and open jaws. Making Liz angry was a bad idea.

"Start searching for a way up!" she yells from down the beach. The others scamper into motion and begin searching every rock or pile of sand for a way in. When I turn Liz is glaring at me, "_All_ of you!" she orders.

Gibson mutters something along the lines "Yes Captain," unaware that she was speaking only to me. Is the ability to bark orders at us a privilege of being the Captain's wife?

"Elizabeth!" Bootstrap calls for her after a few minutes of searching. He and Gibson have gathered by a pile of rocks resting up against one of the pillars. "Elizabeth, I think we've found something!"

Liz rushes to them. Ann and I do as well. When Lizzie arrives she wordlessly shoves past me so she can get a better look. Buried behind the rock pile is a set of ancient doors, which have no doubt seen better days. They look like they're half caved in already from the weight of the rocks leaning against them.

"Move these rocks!" Liz orders as she picks one from the very top of the pile and tosses it carelessly to the ground, almost nicking my foot. We follow suit, hauling the rocks away from the doors. Bootstrap, Gibson and I pull and heave the heavier ones away, while Liz and Ann grab the smallest. Soon the entirety of the door is revealed. The bottom half is in far worse shape then the top. It's corroded, dented and in some places smashed in or broken. When we remove the last boulder one of the doors collapses in the threshold.

We peer inside once the dust settles. Burning torches line the walls, as if this place was expecting company. Liz is the first the climb of the crumpled door. Once inside she takes a torch from off the wall, "Are you coming?" she asks the rest of us. We follow her inside, and Bootstrap likewise grabs a torch.

It's cold inside the cave. If it weren't for the poor light of the torches we'd probably be able to see our own breath. The walls are jagged and slimy, and our footsteps echo all around us. We travel along silently, Liz leading the way down the narrow path. We're forced to walk in a line, one by one, because of the lack of room. I stand behind Liz, Gibson behind me, then Ann and Bootstrap. None of us say anything for a long time, but I can hear Liz's breathing quicken. Does she really know where we are going?

_

* * *

_

_Will_

I thrust my sword into the black tentacle curling itself around my waist. Blood squirts from the wound. The disgusting creature withers in pain as it drags its injured limb back into the sea. Its takes several other limbs with it, injured or not, in fear. My crew has put up a good fight, perhaps the beast it retreating.

"Captain look out!" Fowlsom warns me. My gaze shifts upward. A black limb has ripped through one of our sails and now rushes to flatten me across the deck. I jump, and manage to narrowly avoid getting my legs crushed by the tentacle.

A member of my crew wails as another limb captures and dunks him into the sea. Wood shatters as tentacles fiercely strike it. Several more of my men are knocked onto their backs as they charge for an attacking tentacle. The mast begins to crack beneath the pressure of another tentacle. I race to cut through the black flesh; we cannot not afford to lose our mast. Another man is thrown and another dragged to the depths by the creature. I cannot afford to lose my crew either.

The mast cracks again, splintering my cheek. I jab my blade hard into the tentacle attempting to destroy it. Blood oozes from the wound.

"Captain!" a man yells, "it's too much! There's too many!" he's right. I've already cut down several black limbs, so have my men. Yet new and uninjured ones always pop up to take their place. Everything is moving so fast I don't have time to stop and count them, but I'm sure there's far too many.

A rumble below us vibrates through the ship, knocking several men off their balance, including myself. I grab the rail to keep from falling and find myself staring after the beach. I can see the boat resting onshore, but sign of Elizabeth. She's already disappeared. I wish I had taken to time to kiss her before.

Behind me I can feel the first warm rays of daylight crawling out from under the horizon. With light the fog dissipates and the air becomes clearer. I glance down, the light illuminates the water faintly, but enough to give me a better view. The sea isn't as dark here as we thought. Beneath the surface of the crystal water looms a huge black shadow from where the tentacles span. Within the black mass an orange orb looks in my direction. This is the creature we are fighting.

"Man the cannons!" I shout. Every man in ear shot races to a cannon. They load them quickly and are ready to fire in seconds.

"What do we aim at Captain? The tentacles?"

"No," I peer down into the shadows orange eye, "aim down, at the eye."

"Aye Captain!" they adjust their cannons as far downwards as they can. The beast is gigantic, there's no way to miss it shooting into the water.

"On my command!" a tentacle lurches up from the deep and flies toward my head. I try to move but am not as fast and the force of the limb throws me onto my back. In the same haste it races downward, again aiming for my face. I thrust my sword into its very tip till it up to the hilt in giant squid. I rip my blade down, tearing open a now useless tentacle, "FIRE!"

The blast rumbles throughout the entire ship, shaking us all. Water sprays our faces, splashing up from where the cannon balls hit. They dive steadily, and strike our target as predicted. There is another howling rumble under us. It is a cry of pain and angry from our enemy. Its scarlet blood seeps from its broken body, tingeing the clear water red. Waves cease and the ocean becomes still after our attack. Blood pools silently in the calm water. I can still see the black mass floating motionless beneath the surface. Have we killed it?

From the opposite side of the ship several more black tentacles spring up from the sea. They resume merciless attack, startling my men whom had all believed we had one. I glance over the edge again, the shadow has still not moved. I dash for the other side, avoiding a collision with a tentacle. I slice through a second tentacle hovering in my way, and throw myself into the rail. I peer down, where en equally large black shadow stares back at me with its eyes of orange.

"There's two of them…"

* * *

_Elizabeth_

We're getting close to him, I can feel it.

Gooseflesh has risen on my arms from the chill in these caves. My breath comes in quick paced puffs from either cold or fear. I cannot distinguish which. The only warm comes from the small flame of the torch extended in my arm. The torches lighting the tunnel walls stopped long ago. The dim light of the cave is beginning to hurt my eyes. None of us speak, but we merely walk in silence listening to the echoes of our footsteps. I'm ahead, leading to the place I can only guess Jack will be. Thank goodness there has only been one tunnel for me to follow. The thought of being hopelessly lost within this place sends shivers up my spine.

There it is! Just ahead of us a pocket of light glows brightly. It's the same pocket I remember from my dream. Jack is here, we've found him!

The knot in my stomach tightens as I remember the end of my dream. Jack was nothing but a pile of bones.

Though nobody speaks, the air between us tightens as we approach the pocket. They too know just how close we are to finding him. My pace quickens. Jack is just around the bend….

Behind bars.

I freeze in the threshold. The pocket is a small, round chamber, with torches decorating its walls. The light within the chamber is extremely bright compared to the rest of the caves. Straight across from the arched entrance is another arch. In this arch rests a door, the barred door of a prison cell.

Inside this tiny cell sits a crumpled looking Jack Sparrow. He is dressed exactly how a remember him, with his blue coat and pirate hat pulled low over his eyes. His back is slouched against a rocky wall. One arm rests atop the knee of his leg pulled close to his chest. The other leg lies straight out in front of him, and his arm hangs from his shoulder. His knuckles lay unmoving on the rock and dirt. He looks almost lifeless. I creep forward, the others cramming behind me for a better look.

"Jack?" I say, taking a step closer to his yell. He does not move and says nothing in return, "Jack Sparrow? Is the you?"

A noise. Jack has made a noise, a sort of mumbled noise that I cannot understand but a noise all the same. He is not dead! I'm as close as I can get to him now with the bars separating us. The others gather around me.

"Jack!" he grumbles again, "Jack Sparrow you're alive!" he gives another, slightly louder, mumble, "Jack Sparrow?"

"_Captain_!" he finally shouts, "It's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow! _Captain_!" he pushes up his hat, revealing his dark brown eyes. His face drops at the sight of me. He remains frozen like this, a signature awkward expression plaster on his face for a few moments. "I'm dreamin'" he says simply, shaking his head and pulling his hat back over his eyelids.


	14. Not Without My Affects

Hello all. Just a few notes beofre you start, some of Jack's dailogue in this chapter (and in future chapters to come) may be borrowed from some of his lines in the game Legend of Jack Sparrow. I wanted you all to know because I don't want anybody to think I stole them and are trying to pass them off as my own. If you play the game, you'll probably recognize which ones they are. Also, though Jack is fun to write for, it's still difficult to get inside his head, and I would appreciate some feed back on how I did. Thats all for now. Enjoy!

Chapter 14: Not Without My Affects

_Jack_

"Jack! Jack stop it! Wake up this isn't a dream this real!" the pesky hallucination precedes to nag me further by shaking me prison's bars. Won't do 'er no good. I already tried that.

"This is it?" an unfamiliar voice asks in disbelief, "This is the famous Jack Sparrow?"

"Captain!" I remind 'im. Not even me own imagination believes me to be me anymore. Probably another blasted eunuch, got to replace the old some 'ow.

"Jack it's me Elizabeth!"

"I know bloody well who you are," _Elizabeth, Elizabeth... _I push the tip o' me hat to get a better look. Oh, that Elizabeth. I do know bloody well who she is after all. Oh look. Gibbs is 'ere, an' Anamaria, an' old Bootstrap Bill Turner too! What a wonderfully interesting imagination I have to cook up delusions of 'em as well as complete and fictional strangers.

"I've come to get you out of here!" Elizabeth yells frantically. No she isn't. There ain't no getting' me outta this place, nothin' worth gettin' out for anymore, and nothin' worth 'er presence, 'er royal highness o' guilt 'erself.

"Why? What could you have possibly done that you feel guilty enough to warrant such the effort to come here on my behalf, eh?"

"Jack this isn't funny," she snaps. She is a rather characterlly accurate delusion.

"Bit up tight isn't she?" I say from behind me own ear. A tiny Jackie crawls his way through me 'air to perch on me shoulder.

"'as she always been like this?" A second miniature me questions, balancin' 'imself on me other shoulder. 'E stumbles a bit, but at least he doesn't drop the bottle o' rum in 'is mits.

"'Fraid so mates," I inform them with a sigh. Me…they…I…groan. I turn to the one on me right an' cup me hand over my lips so to keep the she devil from 'earing, "Hide the rum."

"There is no rum!" She roars in frustration. Jackie shrugs 'is shoulder, the bottle disappeared.

"Gee I wonder why," Why is it, that even in me head, the rum is _always_ gone, "Oh that's right, because you're 'ere! You're _really_ 'ere, you're majesty!" I retort, "Oh no wait, no you're not, because nobody ever comes here do they?"

"No they don't," left Jackie says gravely.

"Not for twenty years," right Jackie tells me…us.

"My point exactly, and do you know why?"

"No actually we don't" left Jackie swings from me beads.

"Please do tell us," right Jackie encourages,

"Because they're dead, they're all dead!" I get up, me arms swinging and legs kicking to dirt beneath me feet. Elizabeth knots 'er eyebrows in confusion, s'good look for 'er. I point my finger at 'er dramatically, "You're all dead, leavin' old Cap'n Jack all by his onesy."

"Jack…who were you talking to?"

"Not to you that's for sure, rum stealer!" I stick out my tongue at ye wench. How'd ya like that, eh?

"Jack. There's nobody else here."

I open me mouth to tell 'er otherwise but stop, right Jackie is gone. I look to me left, left Jackie gone! Behind me? No. Under me? No. Up on the ceiling? No. Bugga'.

"I knew that. Course I knew that," act casual, "Why wouldn't I know that?" I address the new whelp and poke 'em in the chest. 'E's surprisingly solid for a figment of me own imagination, "bet you didn't know that. And you don't know that I know what you don't know what I know! Savvy?" place yer hands on your hips and stand proudly Captain…or sway a little bit.

"Stuff it Jack I'm here to rescue you!" I? One, two, three, four…possibly five give or take a few bottles o' rum.

"Having pronoun issues are we?" I ask 'er as sensitively as possible. Dear Lizzie can 'ave a tendency to over react a bit.

"_We_ then!" oh look, just as I predicted, "_We _are here to rescue you!"

Elizabeth stands unwavering before me, looking positively furious. I poke 'er ever so slightly. Solid. Delusions aren't supposed to be solid. I stick me arm through the bars and give each and every one of 'em a firm tap…then withdraw quickly in case of danger. All solid. I have come to the general and highly scientific conclusion that all solids things are real.

"And who's this?" I address the unfamiliar one through the bars,

"Andy," Elizabeth says, not giving the poor lad a chance to speak. That isn't very nice.

"Lizzie," 'is face gets real close to 'ers, like 'e's trying to whisper but doing an absolutely terrible job of it, "this guy is nuts. He can't possibly be the same Jack Sparrow you all told me about!"

"Ahem, Captain!" I remind 'im, pointin' both thumbs at e self. The ungrateful bugga', and to think I mentally stood up for 'im. Elizabeth the charmer rolls her eyes.

"No Andy, this is definitely the same _Captain _Jack Sparrow you've heard of," she huffs. Not the most flattering of actions.

"Thank you, love. Ahem, Well Andy is it? I dub the new Whelp, seeing as how the original seems not to be with _us_."

"Will is here Jack," I pause. Did I miss 'im? I turn about, craning my neck to see behind 'em for any sign o' the eunuch.

"No he's not," I dart me eyes around the cave.

"He's not in here, he's outside waiting for me…us!"

"Jack," Bootstrap steps forward, "we've come to get ya out. We don't have much time. Will is outside waitin' with the Dutchman, but he can't hold out against the creature guarding this place forever." Elizabeth stifles a sobby type gasp.

"Ah! I see you've met said terrible beasties. Well, young…er…old William may not be able to hold against them forever but 'e certainly has forever to try now doesn't 'e?" Elizabeth glares daggers at me. I take a step back, that girl is lethal.

"What do you mean beasties?" Anamaria shouts. I haven't missed that.

"Beasties, the plural form of _beastie_, meaning more then one, in this case, two," I 'old two fingers in case the new Whelp don't quite get it.

"There be two of 'em?" Gibbs gasps.

"Correct. That slimy foul breathed pig headed cretin Captain Ferrara set 'em loose to make I never get to leave this dreary Hell of a place," Oh, how I hate that man.

"Captain Ferrara?" Elizabeth jumps, causing me to do the same,

"Are you telling me that guy considers you such a threat he keeps, not one, but _two_ sea monsters around to guard you?" new Whelp asks.

"Pretty much,"

"Captain Ferrara locked you up in here?" her majesty continues, "Jack he has your compass!"

"Well how do you think he bloody got it? Did I just hand it over to 'im an' 'ere you are mate, knew you fancied it, knock yourself out!"

"He has the chest," she says, more serious then I've ever seen 'er before, "He's going after the Black Pearl. He's going after _your_ ship using _your _compass! He wants to use the heart to control the seas, just like Beckett did!" Coincidentally I hated that man as well, "You don't want Ferrara to take over your ship do you?"

I think about this for a moment.

"No…"

"You don't want him to take away the seas do you, only true form of freedom you've really known?"

"No!"

"Then it's settled!"

"I-wait, what's settled?" did I agree to something I am entirely unaware of?

"We're going to help you get out of this cell. We'll take you to the Pearl, so long as you lead us there, we'll even get you're compass back. We'll do all this for you Captain Jack Sparrow, if you help us get that chest back."

Her eyes are pleading with me. Quite the negotiator Elizabeth is, and sadly I 'ave a soft stop for the ladies. She extends her hand through the bars and we shake.

"Agreed. Now get me out!"

There is a pause. Nobody moves. Should of expected they didn't 'ave a plan to get me out. Behind my able bodied rescuers is a crevice cut into the wall of the stone. Inside said crevice are my affects.

"My pistol!" I grab the bars and reach for it. Sadly I do not reach. If did, I would not be needing rescue.

Elizabeth turns and like the smart little girl she is realizes what I'm after. She grabs me pistol from its ledge and jams against the lock keepin' me inside.

"Stand back!" a good idea. We all, save for Elizabeth, take three giant steps backward. Though new Whelp takes four and ends up with 'is back against the wall. She pulls the trigger, a blast rings in me ears and the cave now smells like gunpowder, but it worked. The now mangled dangles limply in its place for a second or two before plummeting to the ground.

One gentle tap, and the door swings open. I'm free.

"Let's go!" Elizabeth says already half out and into the rest o' the caves.

"Not without the rest of my affects!"


	15. A Lost Bird That Never Learnt to Fly

Chapter 15: A Lost Bird That Never Learnt to Fly

_Elizabeth _

Captain Jack Sparrow is a certified lunatic. He irritates me more with each visit. And yet when he's not irritating, he's actually a good man, which makes it even more difficult to hate him, counting the number of times he's saved either mine or Will's life with one of his schemes. It also makes me feel even guiltier about all the lousy things I've ever done to him, or plan on doing.

Within seconds of being freed from his sell Jack snatches his pistol out of my hands and wobbles toward the spot on the wall carrying the rest of his possessions. Among his many objects are his sword, an empty bottle of rum (no surprise) and a disgusting looking shrunken head that I'm oddly sure I recognize. Missing from his trove is the trusty compass. Jack swaggers out of the little chamber hastily, shouting for us all to follow. Mr. Gibbs follows his Captain loyally, his position of first mate unspokenly reinstated. Anamaria is next out the door, followed by Bootstrap, eying me suspiciously. He already knows what our plans for Jack's beloved Pearl are, and no doubt feels a bit guilty as well. After all, he did play a part to mutiny against Jack once, though in the end he stood up for Jack.

I take a step to leave, but Andy catches me by the shoulder.

"Why did you tell him you were gonna get his ship back?" he whispers in my ear, "You planned on trading it remember?"

"The less he knows the less he can use it against us," I cannot forget that Jack was the one who taught me to be so conniving in the first place. The number of his betrayals probably equals his number of heroisms. He's got to be the hardest man to figure out in the entire universe.

When I round the bend Jack is peeking at me skeptically from ahead. I falter a bit, fearing he can see through right through me. He turns his back on me without a word and continues onward.

"Jack," I squeeze past the others to reach him, "Jack this isn't the way we came. We came from this tunnel in the other direction." I point behind us.

"S'the way I came in," he states, not looking at me.

"And you expect me to believe that you remember your way out after all this time?"

"I should hope so,"

"But I already know the way out! It's the same way we came in!" Jack and I stop walking and face each other.

"Listen Love, there ain't know way you can find the real way out o' 'ere, seein' as 'ow the rather dim light and frigid temperatures can play terribly awful games with ones mind," he jabs his finger into my face, "especially a woman," and raises a brow.

I laugh. "Oh really? Then tell me, how is it that after dwelling in such conditions for years you'll be able to maneuver your way about just fine?"

"Because," he turns swiftly on his heel, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

Apparently that's all the reason Gibbs and Anamaria need to follow him blindly. Jack Sparrow's whistling form disappears behind a corner, leaving only his shadow and his whistle to linger about. Bloody Pirates. Bootstrap and Andy do nothing but stare at me, waiting for my next command.

I sigh, "let's go," and we follow the Captain.

Andy taps my arm.

"Hey Liz," he whispers, "has he always been…you know," he mimes a wobble.

"Better watch what you say about Captain Sparrow," Bootstrap warns, "he's one of the cleverest men I've ever met. Good pirate."

"Yeah but has he always been crazy?" Andy says more loudly this time. Loud enough to echo off the damp stone walls. Before he knows Jack Sparrow is beside him.

"Crazy is as crazy does, mate," he says, chin held high. Did he get taller?

"I don't understand-uff!" No. Jack Sparrow didn't get any taller. He was simply standing on a step Andy succeeded in tripping over. Jack smirks and continues up the stone staircase. Torches line the walls, long since extinguished, in this area of the cave. I recognize it once more from my dream. Are we going up to the top of the towers?

We follow Jack up the stairs, then continue to walk for several more minutes. These tunnels hold a sense of familiarity, being from my dream.

"'Ow did you find me, any 'ow?" Jack abruptly asks.

"Calypso showed this place to me," is it me or did jack twitch a bit at the sound of Calypso's name?

"'Ow very nice of 'er," he gulps. He knows something. Something I don't about Calypso and nor does he plan to tell me either.

"Ah look, 'ere we are!" he says excitedly, probably to change the subject. We now stand before a large set of old thick and heavy doors, much like the ones we entered from but in better condition. Jack leans against the doors, pushing them with all his might.

"'Eavy little buggers aren't they?" he grunts. His heaves result in only his feet sliding out from under him. He straightens, "Gibbs, you give it a try."

"Aye Captain," Gibbs sighs and begins pushing against the door. It still doesn't move.

"Anamaria?" Jack grins; she gives him a rather nasty look. My eyes roll.

"Why don't we all just push on it?" I suggest. Jack smiles.

"Good idea, glad I thought of it," he says as he resumes his task at the door. It takes all my will power not to slap him in frustration.

"Ready, and heave!" Anamaria yells once we are all lined up against the door. We push, but so far it refuses to budge. My feet begin to slip beneath, and it's Jack who catches my arm before I fall. I nod a small thank you and continue pushing, this with my back against it. The door trembles slightly, incentive for us to put all our strength into it. My back is starting to ache from pushing against it. The doors begin to creak and crack, trying their best to hold us on the inside.

Without warning to doors burst open from the force of our weight. We stumble, not expecting the suddenness of our triumph. Jack falls flat on his stomach even though the rest of us regained our balance with no trouble at all. He stand quickly, brushing the dust and gravel from his coat.

The first thing I noticed after the doors open was the sun. It pours steadily into my eyes, temporarily blinding me. I ford to hold my hand above my brow to see. The fog has lifted completely. The day is bright, with few clouds hovering lazily above our heads. The sea sparkles radiantly in the light.

I take a few careful steps onto the narrow stone bridge in front of us, connecting the two rock towers. Beside me are two long cages, suspended from the rock. Inside each lay a long since dead skeleton, or the remaining pieces of ones at least. I don't spy any crows. Below us I can see the Flying Dutchman, waging war against the prison guards. The monsters appear as nothing more but black shadows beneath the water from up here. The Dutchman appears to have taken quite a lot of damage from the attacks. Amidst the chaos and thrashing waves of battle connect find Will, though I suppose we are two high up to see him anyway.

"How are we supposed to get down?" Andy asks. Jack does not verbally respond, but instead reloads his pistol (he's taken to carrying addiction shots since the Isla de Muerta). Once he's finished he climbs onto one of the hanging cages.

"Jack, what are you doing?" I ask, dreading the answer. He simply grins and aims the pistol above his head. My gaze follows, above him the rope suspending the cage is locked in place by some sort of make shift pulley. The rest of the long rope hangs semi-tangled on the rock wall. The second cage is hanging by the same contraption.

"No!" I shout.

"Jack you're mad!" Anamaria yells.

"Thank goodness for that otherwise this would probably never work," he cocks his pistol.

"Jack wait!" I run and manage to leap aboard the rusty cage just as Jack fires his shot. The pulley breaks, sending us falling into oblivion. I scream. And Jack wraps his arm around my back to keep me in place. The wind is loud in my ears, tangling my hair and lifting my hanging garments. Jack's hat soars off his head and I loose sight of it. Through the roar of the wind I can hear another scream. Though my view is obscured by my whipping hair I can see that Andy, Gibbs and Anamaria have decided to follow Jack's method of getting down. Bootstrap falls from the narrow bridge, holding on to nothing.

"Bootstrap!" I scream, panicked.

The cage stops abruptly at the end of its rope, and my foot slips from its hole. I scream again as my whole body detaches from the cage. Jack catches my hand, but instead of keeping me with the cage I end up pulling him from it as well. I hit the water quicker then I would have thought possible. It smacks my arms and legs and stings my eyes with salt water. A swirling cloud of white bubbles appears next to me, meaning that Jack has landed as well. I kick for the surface.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Jack jokes as we bob.

"Oh no, and to think we could have taken my way down!" I scream at him. My arms are sore from my less the comfortable landing. Jack's hat plops onto the water between us in a soft, pleasantly floating landing. It mocks me. Jack reaches for it, and I feel something thick and slimy grab my ankle.

Screaming is something I've done a lot today, including now as a giant tentacle hoists me into the air by my leg, leaving Jack behind. It whizzes me through the air and over the Dutchman. For a second I see Will, watching me get carried away by the sea monster. The tentacle strikes the Dutchman's mast; during the collision it releases me. I fall for only a second before I manage to grab hold of one of the white, sea weed covered sails. This has not been a good day for my arms.

"Aaahhhhhh!" Jack Sparrow flies past me, hat on his head, firmly in a tentacle's grasp.

"Elizabeth!" Will has taken hold of a rope and is soaring up toward me. as he passes his arm hooks around my waist and scoops me up with him. When we reach the top of the mast he deposits me in the crow's nest. Will remains hanging from the rope, with his feet propped against the mass to keep him stable. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean in to kiss him, happy for him to be my rescuer.

"Wooaaahhhhhh!" Jack flies past us again, this time suspended upside down as I was, clutching his hat in one hand.

Will raises a brow at me. I shrug, "found him."

He sighs, "I'll be back," he says before leaping from the mast with his rope, sword drawn. I lean as far over the crow's nest as possible to watch Will sail for the tentacle carrying Jack. As he swings across he slashes an enormous gash in the monsters limb, nearly cutting it in half. Unable to support Jack with its useless appendage it frees him from where it hovers in midair. My breathe catches in my throat as he falls for a second, then grabs hold of Will's rope.

Something hard smashes into my already aching back. The half severed tentacle, aimless flopping about in the half, shoves me from my post in the crow's nest. For a moment I'm crushed by the tentacle and railing, but the force of the limb flips right over it. Life would be so much easier if I only knew how to fly. Instead I have a knack for plummeting head first into undesired destinations.

Will's arm hooks me by the waist, crushing my chest against his as he still holds tight to the rope. I feel as though I've bee punched in the gut. I cling to Will as the rope continues its spiral race around the mast. Jack is wailing somewhere below us.

"Let go!" Will shouts at me.

"What?!"

Will's shoulder collides with the mast, absorbing most of the blow. The rope has wound itself around the mast, leaving us no more room to swing. We let go and fall to the deck below. Will keeps me locked tight in his arms and again takes the brunt of the fall, landing on his back. I lift my head from Will's chest and see two things; one being Jack Sparrow also lying flat on his back. The other is my sword I lost before, waiting for me.

I crawl free from Will. When we are completely untangled I stand and sprint for my weapon.

"Elizabeth duck!" he yells as I reach for my blade. His calloused hand cups the top of my head and pushes me down onto the deck. A tentacle soars past just over our heads. Will and I stare at each other for a moment lying on our stomachs.

"Thank you," are the only words I can manage. He smiles charmingly at me anyhow.

Our brief moment is cut short by another tentacle plowing through wood and pirates in our direction. Will leaps up and lunges for it, piecing the limb with his blade. A mere inch away from my hand rests my sword. I clutch it tightly. I use my free hand to steady myself against the rail as I rise.

My body is compelled to peer over the side of the ship, and so I do. From the water a large orange tinged eyeball glares at me. That eye, that angry eye. The same eye from my dream. This creature must have a weakness somehow.

I hadn't noticed until now that whilst I stared into the pupils of my attacker that I climbed atop the ship rail. I don't know why, but with my sword firmly in my hand a dive fearlessly into the clear water. The last thing I hear before being submerged is Will's frantic voice calling my name.

I'm surrounded by a cloud of white bubbles, holding a breath I was unaware I had taken. The beast glares at me, so close to its face. I can sense its tentacle closing in on my, determined to let me drown. I won't let this thing kill me, or anyone else I love. I stab the creature right in the center of its pupil. The sea turns red. The monster thrashes in agony, shaking me and my blade lose from its eyeball. The creature begins to sink, blinded by its own blood, flailing its limbs in attempt to stay a float.

I've won.

I need to breathe.

I kick for the surface, but a tentacle snags my shoulder and drags me down a few more feet. The downward pull of the ocean around the dying beast is too great. I'm being sucked down with it.

Two pairs of strong arms lift me to fresh air. Andy and my father in law each hold one of my arms, sitting across from one another in the small rowboat. Gibbs is manning the oars, and Anamaria sitting along with them. All save Bootstrap are as soaked as I. he shrugs at me, noticing my expression. Last time I saw him he was falling to what any normal man would call his death.

"Someone had to go back for the boat," he says as I'm pulled aboard.

We're floating along side the Dutchman in seconds. Will rushes to the ladder and practically carries me onto the ship. A handful of crewmen help the others aboard.

"How did you do it?" he asks, before resting my feet back onto the wooden deck.

"The eye," he understands completely without me having to say another word.

"Man the cannons!" he orders, sailors scamper to their posts, "Aim for its eye!" tentacles belonging to our second enemy rise up from the water at a menacingly slow pace. It's angered that I've killed its friend. "FIRE!" Will shouts before I'm ready for it. I cover my arms in reaction to the loud blast, but it does nothing to deafen the explosions. The ship quakes beneath my feet. I don't need to look to know that Will has hit his mark. The creature's tentacles whiter back into the sea, defeated. There is a muffled cry underneath the water as the creature sinks to the locker.

For a while everyone is still, waiting for the nest attack. None comes. We've beaten them! The silence it broken by the roaring cheers from the crew, tossing their hats into the sky. I smile with them, glad to be rid of those…things. What could have made Ferrara hate Jack so badly that he would keep two Kraken like monsters here simply to keep guard?

"A lovely victory," Jack Sparrow grins as he staggers through the crowd. Anamaria stomps past me, angry in her features. The celebration stops. She stand directly in front of Jack, only a few feet from me, with her pistol aims for his skull. Jack is quick. He too draws his pistol and aims it for Anamaria.

Jack notices me staring at them. He snatches a second pistol, from Mr. Gibbs and points it in my direction. I've done nothing to deserve this! I steal the gun of the pirate nearest to me and point likewise at Jack. Will does the same on Jack's other side to defend me.

The Captain switches the aim of his pistol from Anamaria to Will. Anamaria cocks her gun. Jack then takes pulls his weapon away from me and aims it back at her again. I make no attempt to stand down. Jack's eyes dart from me to Will. His arms cross as he aims his first pistol at me and his second at Will again.

Jack tries several more combinations of trying to aim two guns at three people. I'm afraid this has grown rather counter production. Anamaria apparently thinks this as well. While Jack continues switching targets he doesn't notice Anamaria marching right up to him. She slaps hard across the cheek.

"I have been locked in a cell for the past twenty years!" Jack yells, dropping his guns and pressing a palm to his cheek, "What could I have possibly done to deserve that!"

"You still owe me a boat!" Anamaria shouts. Will and I lower our guns. So that is what this is all about.

"No I don't," Jack says in his defense, "I gave you a boat! A better one in fact, the eunuch can vouch for me!" he gestures toward Will, who rolls his eyes.

"When?!" Anamaria still screams. Jack twitches a little at the sound of her voice.

"The Interceptor!" he yells back just as loud, "can't you remember anything?"

"The Interceptor was sunk by the Pearl!" she draws her pistol on him again. Jack raises his hands up defensively.

"S'not my fault it wasn't a very durable ship," Anamaria cocks her gun, ready to pull the trigger. Jack squeezes his eyes hut.

"_Speaking _of ships," I interrupt, placing a hand over Anamaria's pistol and lowering it, "where is the Pearl, Jack?" I say as gently as possible. He opens his eyes. I don't like the expression on his face.

"Ah, yes the Pearl," he walks away. That's it. He just walks away from us and up to the helm. Will and I exchange glances and follow him. We're closely trailed by every other person aboard.

"Jack, you _do_ know where the Pearl is, don't you?" he turns to look at me, eye wide with dilemma in their sockets.

"Of course I do," he snaps. There is a pause.

"So where is it?" Will asks impatiently.

"I don't know,"

"But you just said-!"

"I don't know _exactly_ where it is," he corrects.

"What do you mean?" I ask him.

"I mean," he floats past us again, "that I 'id it in a place where I knew nobodied be able to find, 'specially not that slimy git Captain Ferrara," he turns sharply back to me, a new wave of frustration in his words, "but unfortunately without me compass I've no way of knowing exactly where it is."

This isn't good. This isn't part of the plan.

"Jack, where did you _hide it?_" I speak to him like a mother about to scold her children. He grins, mouth full of gold.

"The Bermuda Triangle."


	16. Trust to Be Dishonest

Chapter 16: Trust to Be Dishonest

_Will_

I stand at the helm, my hands on the wheel but my mind elsewhere. I watched Elizabeth as she leans her forearms across the rail of the ship and stares into the vast ocean. The wind tosses her hair about playfully, making me want to run my fingers through it. She stands alone, upset and disappointed in Jack. She was counting on him knowing the location of the Pearl for her plan. If Ferrara gets to the ship before we do than we'll have nothing bargain with. Ferrara's chances seem to be improving, sense he is armed with the compass and us Jack.

"Ya don't understand," he tries explaining to me, "I know where I left it, but the triangle takes things, makes 'em disappear! A mind of it's own it 'as. Won't ever give nothing back, not less you can find it, which to say is next to impossible. Less o' course, I had me compass, which I don't!"

"Where is the Triangle, Jack?" I try to pull as much information out of him as possible. He shows me a pair of empty hands, frustrated.

"'Ow the bloody 'Ell should I know!"

"Jack,"

"Go north," he says, this time more serious "you'll know it when you hit it." He rest one of his hands on the hilt of his sword in his belt and begins to walk away. His curious eyes follow my gaze to Elizabeth, "She 'asn't changed a bit 'as she?"

"Neither have you, Jack,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" All I have to do is look at him. He knows exactly what I mean. Jack grins, proud to be the same notorious, half mythological pirate. "She's exactly the same," he continues, "Same old feisty, lyin', rum stealin' Elizabeth.

Is that meant to be a compliment?

"Same ole Pirate King, I wonder…?" he asks slowly, cautiously.

"And if she is?"

"Nothing," he replies far too quick and nonchalantly, tossing his arms in the air "nothing at all. Just wondering is all."

"Come on, Jack. We both know you better than that."

He sighs, resting his hand on his sword hilt once more, "does Ferrara know who she is?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"Good. Keep it a secret," there's a hint of guilt in voice, and certainly enough in his eyes. He glances at me staring at him intently, "best not to give Ferrara what 'e really wants," he says before walking away. He knows something about Ferrara we don't, and by the looks of it doesn't want to tell us. I worry about what would happen if Ferrara we to discover Elizabeth to be the King, and why it would matter to him at all. I've been focused on him simply wanting the Black Pearl, but then again he's also after the chest and its contents. With the Black Pearl and Flying Dutchman, the last real pirate ships, under his command, he'd have the makings of his own fleet. He'd control the seas. What pirate wouldn't want that kind of power?

I look back to Elizabeth, unaware of my troubled thoughts or Jack's guilty conscious. I order another man to take my place in the helm so I can go to her.

"What did he say?" she asks, sensing my presence. I lean across the rail just as she does. We both keep our eyes on the sea, but I sneak my hand into one of hers and twine our fingers together.

"He said go north, that we'll know it when we hit it," she stifles a laugh, as if to say typical Jack. Other then that we are silent and I find a familiar peace in her company. An itch rises on the back of my wrist. I go to scratch it but my fingers run over something rough and hard. I look down, hating and fearing what I see. I coral colored barnacle has sprouted out of my skin.

"It's happening to you isn't it," Elizabeth says the words before I can think them, "what happened to Davy Jones?"

I nod, unable to bear that tiniest bit of sorrow in her voice. Her gentle fingers trace over the scab like barnacle. It surprises me; I almost thought she would have backed away in disgust. Though I know what she's thinking. She blames herself for this. It was my choice to leave my duties to rescue her. I chose to take that risk even if she was someone completely different.

"Elizabeth it's not your fault,"

"Isn't it? Will I was supposed your keep heart safe, always. You asked me to. If I hadn't of lost the key to Ferrara you wouldn't have had to come to protect it," she's shocked me again. She thought I was trying to keep Ferrara from getting the chest. The truth is that the thought of protecting the chest before hadn't even occurred to me. my only concern was Elizabeth.

"I don't care about the chest," I blurt.

"But Will your heart-"

"Is right here," I clutch her hand in one of mine and trace the outline of her chin with my free hand, "with you." I glide her chin to me with my thumb and kiss her softly.

"Calypso came to see me," I say once our lips part, unable to stop myself, "while you were asleep. She agreed you could stay…for now." We both look down at my hand, "she never said there would be consequences."

"I'll get the chest back to you before it's too late," I know what she means to say is that I'll get the chest back and _leave_ before it's too late. I brush a strand of hair from her cheek, "I promise".

"Man over board!" Rusty yells from his position in the crow's nest. Elizabeth and I lean over the rail as far as we can to peer ahead of us. Jack practically prances to our side, scampering across the deck with his floating delicately at his sides, Gibbs at his heel. My father comes to stand beside me as well.

Smoke billows high above us, spanning into thick black clouds above our heads. A single piece of ash falls squarely on Elizabeth's noise, before several more rain down on us. Jack attempts to either swat or blow them away from him. The smell of burning wood, among other things, is potent. As we glide closer the image of an ill fated fishing boat emerges from the smoke in flames. Men have died here. On any other day this would be the sort of wreck to attract the Dutchman instead of simply passing by on chance.

"Man over board, man over board!" an all too familiar voice squawks behind us. The four us (Elizabeth, Jack, Gibbs and I) turn slowly, hoping the voice we've heard does not belong to the creature we al know it does. A blue and yellow parrot sits contently on the rail of the stairs.

"How did you-"

"Look!" Elizabeth yells, interrupting my pointless question. She's leaning so far over the edge I'm afraid she might fall in. apparently I'm not the only one who thinks this, for as soon as only the tips of her toes still remain on the deck Andy rushes to our spot. I hold Elizabeth by the waist to keep her from going over.

"Sweet Blackbeard's ghost!" Gibbs says, "It's Cotton!"

Sure enough the old mute man with a parrot inefficiently trained to talk for him floats unconsciously on a scrap of wood. He looks the same as last time I saw him, with his graying beard.

"Help!" someone else gargles from the water. Amidst the smoke and wreckage a tiny man bobs with in the waves, trying desperately to hold to a piece of debris with one arm.

"Cast a line!" I shout I climb onto some of the ships ropes and begin to make my way down. When I look back at my crew no one is moving, "what are you waiting for?"

"Captain," a man timidly protests, "this isn't our-"

"You heard the Captain!" my father yells, "Cast a line!"

"Aye Sir," he mumbles as he and the other men rush into action. I nod a silent thank you to my father before climbing down the side of the ship. The board Cotton floats on is close enough to the ship for me to reach. I hoist him over my shoulder and climb up again. Luckily Gibbs and my father are there to take him once I've reached the deck.

I hear a rope splash behind me, "Grab the line!" Elizabeth yells. The second man struggles a bit to grab hold of the rope, again only using one hand. I prepare myself to jump in and swim for him, but he manages to grip the rope and wrap it around himself before the others pull him to safety. When he rises from the water its clear why he only used one arm to keep himself afloat, the other is purple and bruised and several fingers appear to be out of place and broken. Its also quite clear this man is no more then three feet tall.

He falls to the deck with a thunk, coughing up salt water. As he does Cotton begins to walk, likewise coughing up water. Only he succeeds in spitting it all over Jack's boots.

"Thank you that Mr. Cotton," he grumbles. At the sound of his Captain's voice Cotton rises and stands as straight as possible.

"Captain?" the smaller of the two men questions, "I thought you were dead!"

"Pleasure seein' you again as well Marty," Jack addresses him, then his eyes dart back to Cotton, "stand down man."

"Aye, aye Captain!" the parrot squawks to all our surprise, landing on Cotton's shoulder.

"Glad to see that finally started to work out," Jack mumbles. Anamaria and Elizabeth pull up barrels for both Cotton and Marty to sit on. Gibbs offers them a swig from his handy flask of rum.

"By God Marty, what happened to the two of ya?" he asks, seeing Marty's bruised arm.

"Captain Ferrara!" he practically spits, "he's after the Pearl Jack! Tried to get me to tell 'em where it is!"

"I trust you didn't?" Jack asks, only it's not question.

"Not a word,"

"Good man,"

"He wanted me to tell 'em about the King also," Jack and I both flinch. Marty looks at Elizabeth, who's frozen as she attempts to sling his arm, "I didn't," he says.

"So he tortured you?" Elizabeth is disgusted by this. I have no doubt she's mentally swearing revenge at this moment.

"Whoa, a King? What King? Nobody told me about any King," Andy complains.

"Aye, me neither!" Anamaria joins in.

"The Pirate King," Gibbs answers, more to Anamaria then to them both, his voice filled with that same usually mystique "of the Brethren Court." His eyebrows rise as his eyes dart to Elizabeth, still helping Marty with his arm. Anamaria nods slowly, connecting the dots. There's no need to explain the Brethren to her, she knows just as every other pirate would. Needless to say, Andy remains confused and I believe has given up on asking questions he knows he won't get an answer to.

"How did he find you? Did he attack your ship?" I ask, referring to the flaming vessel. Marty shakes his head.

"I was in a pub, feelin' a bit jolly off there rum. I'm not sure when or how I remembered it," he means the past, "but the stories of Captain Jack Sparrow were comin' out of me mouth before I could stop 'em." Jack grinned, flattered to know people still talk about him.

"I don't remember much else that night," Marty continues his story, "Just walking up on his ship. Said he'd have one of his men break all my fingers till I tell him where the King is," by the appearance of Marty's arm its obvious he told Ferrara nothing of importance, I'm grateful. "From below deck I heard men yellin' this morning 'bout a parrot landin' on his ship. They happened to run across that fishin' boat, oddly enough Cotton was on it," at this Cotton nods, "Ferrara ain't a merciful man. Couldn't let that boat live. Throw some dynamite sticks at-"

"Same thing he did to us," Elizabeth whispers.

"I managed to get away, jump ship during the attack. Ferrara must've thought me dead and not bother to come lookin'"

"Why did he want to know about the Pirate King?" I can't hold it in any longer.

"I don't know," Marty shakes his head, "Just kept askin' where the King is, nothing else."

Angry I turn to Jack, grabbing the collar of his white shirt, "Why does Ferrara want to know about the Pirate King?" I ask him threateningly.

"I don't know," Jack squeaks, trying his best to grin.

"Don't lie to me Jack!"

"Will put him down!" Elizabeth's hands are pulling at my shoulders; I hadn't realized that in my anger I managed to lift Jack several inches off the deck. Jack casts me a false puppy eyes look. I drop him. Jack has difficulty remaining balanced when his feet hit the deck.

"Ahem. There, uh…be one _other_ way to become the Pirate King, Will," Gibbs speaks up.

"What?" Elizabeth, Jack and I say at the same time. We look at Jack, trying to hard to seem ignorant.

"Aye. The way to become the Pirate King is to be elected by majority vote by the Pirate Lords of the Brethren Court, which is a rarity seein' as how most pirates only ever vote for 'im self, but we all knew that."

"I didn't," Andy says. We all ignore him.

"But if there already be a Pirate King, havin' already been voted in, then to take that King's place would be to kill 'im and claim the title fer yer own," I feel Elizabeth's pulse quicken next to me, "If the King dies naturally, or nobody claims the title after killin' 'im then once again nobody is King. But my guess is that Ferrara is planin' on taken the title for 'is own."

There is silence for a few moments as everyone absorbs this information. Ferrara wants to be King, with the Flying Dutchman and Black Pearl at his command. That in no way is a good combination. Gradually everyone goes back to their stations. Gibbs takes Marty and Cotton below deck to them cleaned up. Elizabeth is shivering slightly beside me. I pull her into a huge, "I'll protect you," I whisper into her ear, "no one else will harm you. I promise."

She smiles at and I kiss her gently before she follows Gibbs below deck.

I turn back to Jack, "You knew this."

"No I didn't," he lies

"You warned me," suddenly Jack pulls me close to him by the collar of my shirt. He whispers in my ear just as I did to Elizabeth.

"I warned ya to keep it a secret. Ya never know who'd be willin' to betray ya, for a way out of this mess." He nods his head in the direction of Andy, watching us from a safe distance.


	17. Salvaging is Saving

A short chapter I know, but there's more to come soon, I promise. Also, I understand that at least a few of you seem to be rather upset over Will's condition. All I have to say is trust me, there's a method to my madness. But I also warn you, all things must get worse before they can get any better. Have faith.

Enjoy!

Chapter 17: Salvaging is Saving 

_**Ferrara**_

Before me stand two of the filthiest, smelliest, ugliest men I have ever laid eyes upon. Their clothes are old and dirty and torn. One's shirt is mere tatters, revealing the whole of his pudgy, hairy chest. Dirt is practically painted into their skin, and embedded beneath their unkept finger nails. They have foul breath with rooted yellowing and blackened teeth. Eyes are yellow with disease and the skinny one even has a black patch over his right eye. His dirty hair is a matted mop, and the other is bald save for long greasy strands hanging at his shoulders.

They came aboard because despite the thick fog we managed to find them, floating in a wooden long boat. I am not sure how we came upon them. One moment the sea was empty and the next they were scrambling in their little boat, calling for us to pick them up. Perhaps they could become of use to me.

"Me thanks go to you fo' pickin' us up," the skinny one says in his British accent.

"Aye. Not sure 'ow we'd been driftin'" the other replies.

"Years probably, we've been lost,"

"Told ya we shouldn't a left!" the pudgy one is growing angry, "we should a stayed right where we were! One life was enough fo' me, but you wanted ta go back fo' more!"

"I said no such thing! I was ready ta go inta God's hands I was,"

"And who says that's where ya be goin'?"

"It's in da bible!"

"You can't read!"

Their bickering is annoying and tiresome. I should have left them to drown. I glance at Diego and give him a nod, my silent single to throw them over board.

"We shouldn't a tired to come back," the skinny one continues to reminisce, "Jus' cause we know 'ow ain't a good 'nough reason ta be doin' such things."

"Then we wouldn't a bin lost for all those years, wondering whether or not we made it,"

"I guess we 'ave," they both laugh. Was that supposed to be some sort of joke? Their moods quickly change as the pudgy one hits the skinny one in the arm, his expression turning grim.

"Yeah but now we's got nothin' ta go to!"

I've had enough of this. I nod at Diego again. He gets up quickly and stealthily, sensing my frustration.

"If only we had done what good ole Cap'n Turner told us," the skinny one says solemnly.

"Stop!" I yell, lifting my hand to coincide. The two stop bickering at once, though the statement was meant for Diego, who was already behind them with his pistol drawn.

_Captain Turner._

_His eyes peer suspiciously at my guards. He doesn't trust them of course. I never expected him too. He motions with his finger to lean closer, so I do. He too inches closer to me until I can smell his rum drenched breath on my face. His lips practically touch my ear as he whispers, ever so faintly, the name of The Pirate King. _

_"Captain Turner," Jack Sparrow breaths into my ear._

"You know Captain Turner?" I ask gingerly.

"Course we know 'em," the pudgy man snaps back, "we be good chums with tha Captain."

"Cap'n a tha Flyin' Dutchman 'e is," the skinny man replies.

I think back to my encounter with the Flying Dutchman not long ago. It had come for the girl, Lizzie, and the chest. I remember the young man with the green bandana who had severely reduced the amount of men I command. He was the captain. He is Captain Turner, the Pirate King. It is he I must kill for the title, and when I do their will be nothing I cannot conquer with the Flying Dutchman at my command.

Thump-thump.

The heart. I already have his heart. Here it sits, inside its cozy little chest. I need that key.

Perhaps these fools, these "good chums" of Turner's can be of some use to me after all.


	18. Everybody's Thinkin' It

Chapter 18: Everybody's Thinkin' It 

_Elizabeth_

I watch, from everywhere and nowhere as the ship is destroyed.

The storm that generates from the dark sky thrashes the vessel about the sea. The strong winds tear at its sails. The wood splinters and cracks under the pressure of the rough and vicious waves. Water flows angry over the deck, washing men and supplies away and into the sea below. Rain pelts down in thick sheets, blinding the men on board just as the roaring thunder deafens them. From my distance I can hear their faint screams and shouts, and the remnants of the ship's bell. Nothing surrounds them but ocean. Its hopeless, they've already lost.

A white flash of lightening snakes down from the clouds and strikes the very top of the ships mast. Smoke explodes from the spot at once as the fire cackles to life. Despite the rain and gigantic waves the fire spreads rapidly across the white sails, staining them black as they burn. It's only then that I recognize this ship; The Black Pearl.

Suddenly a rogue wave leaps up from the sea, crashing down against the Pearl. She rocks, splinters, and finally capsizes. Though the wave extinguished the flames engulfing the ship the smoke remains, creating a dense haze around the sinking vessel. A second, smaller yet equally destructive wave strikes, and the Pearl is lost to Davy Jones locker.

A feeling in my chest tells me one survived, though I know this can't true. How could anyone survive that? They couldn't. But still, I can't shake the feeling. And though the wind still howls and the waves crash, I can hear the faintest stifled cry of a woman who's lost all faith in the man she trusted.

My eyes snap open as the images in my dream fade away. My breathing is heavy; I can feel the sweat on my brow and my heart races when I feel the floor move beneath me. There's no need for me to panic though, I'm not dreaming anymore, I'm below deck, aboard the Flying Dutchman, resting against a wooden pillar as I sit on the floor. The ship sways gently with the motion of the sea, far from any storm.

Below deck is mostly quiet, save for the soft conversation of Mr. Gibbs and Marty and Cotton. They sit not far from me, Bootstrap among them, Marty and Cotton's wounds already finished being dressed. When had I fallen asleep?

"You were awfully tired," Bootstrap says when he notices that I'm awake, "understandably of course."

"How long was I asleep?"

"Not long," Mr. Gibbs answers. He's playing cards with the others with a rather soggy looking deck. From the looks of it, it appears Mr. Cotton's parrot is winning.

"Is something wrong Elizabeth?" Bootstrap concernedly asks. The symptoms of my dream have not yet vanished.

"Nothing," I sigh, "just a dream I had, about the Pearl." I'm not sure why I told them that, I couldn't stop it. I probably should have kept that information to myself. Gibbs already thinks it bad luck to keep women aboard ships, wouldn't want him to think I'm having dreams of bad omens either.

"You know," Bootstrap pulls the crate he sits upon closer to me, the others lean their heads in closer, practically suffocating me. "The Pearl didn't always belong to Jack," he says quietly.

This is new information. I'm shocked, truthfully. I can't imagine the Black Pearl being anyone else's ship but Jack's. Except Barbossa maybe, it was his at a time. Bootstrap smirks, apparently my shock is evident by the expression on my face.

"I didn't know that!" Mr. Gibbs says rather loudly, surprised to not be the one delivering this information himself.

"It was lost at sea," he continues the story softly, "long before either I or Jack or his father were born. I don't know who the Pearl belonged to then, nor did I care to know. Not till now that is. Jack heard about the Pearl somehow. Must've heard it was a great ship, because he made a deal with Davy Jones for it. Jones would raise the Pearl from the depths for Jack to captain for thirteen years, than take him for another hundred aboard the Dutchman once his time was up. "

"So that was the reason for his debt with Jones," Will says walking up behind me. I think it really hits me that Will is the successor of Davy Jones as he positions himself on the floor next to me, his arm draped over my shoulders. I try hard to shiver at the thought of Will becoming a man like that; a man who would do anything to make sure a debt was paid. A man who would give another everything he ever wanted only to rip it away again. A man who tried so hard not to feel love, that he felt compelled to take it away from all those who did. Could Will ever be so cruel? I don't want to think about it.

Sensing my discomfort Will does exactly the thing I wish he wouldn't. He removes his heavy arm from around me, draining all the warmth he brought with it. He doesn't say anything or even look at me. It's almost as if he's trying to push me away. I don't know why, he knows I love him and I know he'd do anything for me. Perhaps he thinks it will make our separation easier if we don't get to close. He always detaches himself from me as much as possible before leaving. I wish he would stop. It only makes me want him more.

Maybe he just really knows what I'm thinking.

"Ferrara is after the Pearl," Gibbs muses, "Ya don't think…" he doesn't finish his sentence. We all know what he's thinking: could Ferrara have once been captain of the Pearl? I remember that feeling from my dream. One survivor.

I also think about Jack's distant nature toward us lately, "Jack knows something."

"Something he isn't keen on telling us," Will agrees.

"As usual."  
A commotion has started above deck, we all stop and listen as men yell and run frantically above us, their steps pounding just above our heads. Will rises at the first hints of distress, but does not move, silently hoping it will pass just like the rest of us are. Andy nearly falls as he runs down the stairs, panting and out of breath.

"Liz," he starts, sweat pours from his body. I recognize the look in his eyes, a mixture of fear and panic. The same look he had just before his yacht was lost to-

BOOM

I cover my ears in reaction to the deafening blast from above. All of us below throw ourselves onto the floor in a hurry, not expecting the explosion. I'm sure I'm screaming, but I hear no sound escape from me. Broken splinters of wood rain down from the gaping hole hovering over our heads. A sudden rush of wind and a fresh batch of splinters plummet through the hole as a second explosion cracks outside. Will dives over me, protecting me like a human shield.

Just as abruptly as the explosions began they have ended, thrusting the Dutchman into an almost unwelcome calm. Will still clutches tightly to me as we slowly lift our heads to examine the damage. A loud and annoying ring penetrates my eardrums. It's the only thing I can hear for what feels like an eternity, all moving at an unimaginably slow pace.

Will is saying something to me. His hand glides along my cheek to direct my gaze away from the hole and at him again. I grab his hand resting against my cheek and squeeze it tight. His fingers curl comfortingly around mine. He repeats his statement to me. His lips move in a slow drawn out pace, but I hear nothing but incoherent muffled yells. His deep eyes and spare hand study me for injury, and (I hope) find none. I think he's asking me if I'm alright. I nod. I half expect my body to move in the same slow motion pace as everything else, instead my head jerks forward, aching.

Will turns away from me after saying something else I could not understand. I keep my hand curled around his not wanting to let him go. I'm thankful that he allows me to stick close as he takes command of the ship. He cups his free hand yells something through the giant hole. The ringing is fading at the same exaggerated slowness that every thing moves in. I still cannot make out Will's words, but his voice is becoming more clear and distinguished, along with Mr. Gibbs, who is also yelling things I can't understand.

The men from below deck all race above, though to me it looks more like a competition of the slowest. Some lunge up the stairs, while others vault through the hole. It almost looks like they're flying rather then jumping through my eyes. Others are snails, crawling along the floor before they launch themselves onto their feet. A heavy hand sinks into my shoulder. I turn to face Andy, also concerned for my safety, but in doing so my hand slips away from Will, who I'm almost positive is inquiring what just happened. I ignore Andy and turn back to Will, but the world is beginning to move at regular speed again and he's already too far away for me to simply reach him without moving my legs, which seems to be the one thing I'm incapable of at the moment. Will doesn't seem to notice.

I glance above me. Jack Sparrow's head slides into view over the hole, a look of surprise and bewilderment plastered across his permanently tanned face. His jaw hangs on its hinges as he stares, unblinking, into the void.

He licks his lips before saying, "we appear to be under attack."

My hearing has returned.


	19. Cruelty is a Matter of Perspective

This Chaper contains point of view musical chairs. Ye readers be warned.

Chapter 19: Cruelty is a Matter of Perspective

_Jack_

There it is, just sittin' there under 'er legs, my ticket to freedom, an' she 'asn't even noticed it. The key. The bloody damn key. I lick the salt air from me lips in delight, "we appear to be under attack."

That certainly got their attention in a hurry. Every pirate aboard rushes up at full speed, then practically to no speed at all once they collide with the blasted fog. Even Will and the Missus bounce up those stairs, though separately.

"I don't see anyone!"

"Can't see anything in this fog!"

I hear the crew yell as I survey the deck, nobodies lookin' so I'll just-

"What's attacking us?" Bloody 'Ell, I jump a step back. Where did the eunuch come from?

"Don' know," I say, shooing 'im away. Can't very well have 'im watch.

"Ferrara," oh bugga' the Missus, "he's using dynamite."

"It's how he blew up my yacht!" Bloody 'Ell New Whelp, must you all congregate near the Captain?

"Where did he go? Where's his ship?" Will always did get excited at the prospect of danger.

"Ya won't find 'im. 'E's long gone by now," I tell 'im, squintin' into the fog.

"Oh, and why not?"

"Because, we're 'ere." I grin. We've made it.

"The Triangle?"

"Yes and I suggest you go carry on and make yerself a nice little navigation route to follow," shoo, "'ere take these," I push New Whelp and the Missus at 'im, "now if you excuse me I seem to 'ave lost me hat." I look down, searchin' for it, can't be too far. One more giant step and-

"Woah!" I would have much preferred to take the stairs, seein' as how now me chest 'urts somethin' terrible. New Whelp peers down at me from over the edge o' the 'ole. Oh look, me hat.

"Got it!" I yell, waving over me head like a flag. Satisfied, he leaves me to my business. I just so happen to land right square in front o' the key, and if ya don't mind, I'll be takin' it into safe keepin'.

**

* * *

**

**_Andy_**

Jack Sparrow has not only proven himself to be a drunken idiot, but clumsy as well. I leave him lying on his stomach in the hole, his precious hat in hand. I'm sure he can get out all by himself just fine. I on the other hand want to talk to Lizzie. We still haven't directly spoken since her outburst on the beach. I hope she isn't still made at me. She seemed so shaken by the sudden attack. I swear that Ferrara's ship was right beside us, if only for a split second, or at least long enough to throw two sticks of dynamite at us. Then it just…vanished.

On my way to Liz I walk past Ann, holding herself tightly and trembling. I can't leave her like that. I walk back and place a hand on her shoulder.

"You alright?"

"Of course," she snaps, shrugging my hand off. "It's just," she says quieter, "that's what killed…"

"Yeah, I know," she talking about Jeff, a subject we've been repressing since coming aboard the Flying Dutchman. He was my best friend. He didn't deserve to die like that. Ferrara is going to pay for it.

A white mass appears in the fog, sailing head on, straight for us. A pirate stands at the bow of the yacht, a red sparking stick in his hand.

"Look out!" I push Ann to the floor and duck as the pirate tosses the lit tube of dynamite at us. I wait a few seconds. Nothing happens. Silence, if there were any crickets, they'd be chirping right now.

"What?!" Ann pushes me off her and stands straight up. I follow. Everyone stares at me, the boy who cried wolf.

"Is something wrong?" Captain Turner asks, raising an eyebrow. I'm he thinks I'm crazy.

"The ship, Ferrara's ship," I try to explain, "It was here a second ago. They threw dynamite at us!" some men of the crew stiffen and begin searching for any missed dynamite fuses.

Something explodes in the fog, not far from the ship but not close enough to cause any damage either. The fog lights up orange and red and yellow for a moment before fading back into thick gray mist. It captivates everyone on deck.

"I told you," I say softly. Lizzie looks from me to the spot of the explosion and back again, all without blinking her wide eyes.

"Like I said," Jack Sparrow strolls past me, his arms swaying where he holds them in midair. His hat is securely reunited with his head, "Things 'ave a tendency to disappear in the Triangle."

_

* * *

_

_Will_

"Men!" I call out unsheathing my sword, "We are under attack and at a disadvantage. Our enemy could strike at any moment from any direction. Be prepared!" Without me having to tell them my men grab their swords and pistols and ready themselves for battle. Elizabeth draws her blade as well, daring Ferrara to cross her. My father takes the wheel, keeping us on what ever frivolous course we hold. Anamaria arms herself with a gun again. Gibbs, Marty and Cotton have taken to one of the cannons and begin to load with the rest of the crew. All we can do now is sit and wait for the next attack.

"Left!" Andy yells, "Port, I mean port!"

Ferrara's sterling white ship glides into appearance beside us. Angry pirates line its deck, blades in their hands. Ferrara seems to have a penchant for the old fashioned when it comes to this sort of weaponry, lucky for us. The pirates on the white boat's deck yell and roar, their fists shaking. My crew responds according, doing exactly the same thing.

They charge. Pirates leap off each deck for the other. Elizabeth screams in fury as her blade is the first to clash with an opposing pirate. Metal vibrates and echoes as blades meet by the dozen. Most of my crew, being the more experienced, manage to stop most of the Spanish pirates from ever setting foot on our deck.

A man screams in front of me, his sword held high over his head as he leaps from his deck for mine. I swing at him, determined not to let him set any foot on my ship. Just as my blade is about to cut at his throat he vanishes in a swirl of smoke. The ship and any other pirates attempting to leap across have disappeared along with him.

"Starboard!" Elizabeth yells. We all turn and race for the unmanned side of the Dutchman. Here some scoundrels have already managed to come aboard. Their ship dissolves into the fog immediately after.

Elizabeth reaches our opponents before I do, giving one a well earned kick to the face. His sword loosens in his palms. Elizabeth steals it as she cuts him, sending him to his knees. She kicks him again, and he tumbles backwards off my ship. Elizabeth then twirls her blades around and thrusts them into two upcoming attackers from behind without so much as glancing back. I can't help but smirk. I taught her that.

My blade clashes against another. It doesn't take much effort to disarm this man, just a swift kick o his knuckles and the sword falls to the deck. The man grabs his hand in pain. I grab the back of his shirt and toss him over aboard. I spin in order to slice a second opponent. He recoils backward and I barely knick him. I thrust my blade at him once more but he parries it with almost ease. He likewise aims to cut off my head. I duck, swinging my blade at his ankles. He jumps in time. I tumble forward and onto my feet to avoid his blade stabbing me from above. I spin again, and again my attack his halted by his blade striking mine. We pause for a moment, each applying as much pressure to our own sword as possible, testing which one of us will falter first. The man smiles a cruel grin at me. He is enjoying this fight.

"Behind us!" someone yells. I don't turn. I can't. If I move then he'll catch me off guard and win. A rush of noise, heat and air push me to the ground. Strands of hair whip my face as the force of the blast blows the bandana from off my head. More dynamite. I shake my hair away from my face from where I lay on the deck. The pirate I was dueling has disappeared.

_

* * *

_

_Elizabeth_

I lost sight of Will when the attack began, too focused on my own opponents. The fourth dynamite explosion tosses me like a rag doll. My swords clatter to the floor and I fall into a pair of arms I hope to be his. I bury my face into his chest and squeeze tight while splinters of wood rain down on us. When I feel the last of them hit my back I look up. Andy is the one holding me protectively. Not Will.

Just over Andy's shoulder I spy Jack sneaking away from battle in his usual half tip-toed half crouched way. Where does he think he's going? "Bloody pirate," I mutter. I look at Andy, our arms still wrapped around each other, "Keep an eye on Jack," I tell him, before freeing myself from his grasp. He looks at me, stunned. I only now remember that we still weren't speaking to each other because of our earlier argument. I give him a quick kiss on the cheek, "thank you." I whisper.

I tear myself away from him and pluck my swords from the deck. I hear Andy scamper away looking for Jack. When I rise, my gaze instinctively falls on Will staring at me as he brushes pieces wood from his clothing across the deck, a mixture of confusion and hurt swims in his eyes.

_"If you make your choices alone how can I trust you?"_

_"You can't,"_

* * *

_Jack_

A man from our opposing pirate vessel is apparently a coward. As the slimy Ferrara's boat reappears once more at the Dutchman's side this scallywag reaches 'is 'and out far as it'll go whilst 'is mate on the other ship does the same. As those two reach for each other a third pirate, who throws like a girl I might add, tosses one o' them boomstickies my way. It clunks to a landin' at me feet. Won't do us no good to keep that on board. I pick it up and study it for a few, just 'ow does this thing bloody work? Oh well. I toss it back. The bugga' who tossed it catches like that of a female a well. It smacks square in 'is jaw, then 'e fumbles with it a bit before 'e drops it.

It explodes at 'is feet. What a mess.

"Abandon ship! Abandon ship!" Cotton's pirate squawks as 'e flies by.

"Not a bad idea mate,"

The man on board Ferrara's stink o' a ship turns 'is head in distraction. I take this opportunity to give the scallywag a fierce kick in the bum and over 'e goes! I grab 'is mates 'and and hop me self over ta Ferrara's. I need to make a deal, and make it before Elizabeth 'as the chance to make one of 'er own.

"Thanks very much," I tell 'im before tossin' 'im over the side. Just as I do the Dutchman vanishes into a cloud o' smoke.

A pistol is pointed in me face. That's not a very nice greetin'. I push it away with me finger.

"Ahem. Palula…" that can't be right, "paula, piranha, parsippany… damn I know this one!"

"Parlay?" One Eye offers. The annoying bald one stands beside 'im, they too 'ave guns pointed in their faces.

"That's it, parlay!" I turn to One Eye and then other, "aren't you…"

"Don' ask," Baldy sighs.

**

* * *

**

**_Andy_**

I've lost sight of Jack. I can't believe this. Liz gives me the simplest thing to do and I lose him. Jack was here a moment ago, walking calmly as ever along the deck. Maybe the triangle got to him to, and now he's vanished. At least that's the only explanation I can come up with.

"Run out the triple guns!" Will yells as Ferrara's white yacht appears directly in front of us. He catches me watching him and if looks could kill, I'd be dead. Which would suck, because I'd only end up back on his ship again, "Fire!" he yells, still looking straight at me.

The Dutchman shakes as three consecutive cannon shots are fired from each side of the bow. Two succeed in blowing holes in Ferrara's ship before it disappears again, but when the lost cannons shots are fired I lose my balance. I'm caught by strong and overly rough grip, followed by a knife to my throat. One of Ferrara's men has caught me.

**_

* * *

_**

**_Ferrara_**

I can hear cannon fire outside, along with men screaming. The inside of my cabin shakes briefly, before stopping suddenly along with half the noise. I take it the Dutchman has disappeared into the fog of the Triangle again.

The door to my cabin bursts open, and in walks Jack Sparrow, escorted by my guards.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Jack Sparrow," I applaud my enemy mockingly, "to what do I owe the pleasure?" He, like the other two, is being watched carefully by my guards, their pistols cocked and ready. The mere fact that Jack Sparrow is still alive and out of that prison makes me loath the very core of him even more then I did before.

"Well first let me remind you that it's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow," and I still don't understand why he likes to use his index fingers as useless pointers so much, "second is that I've come to make a trade."

"Not more of your useless trades," I toss his compass onto the table that separates us. It lands next to the beating chest. Jack's eyes grow wide and he gives my gesture of disrespect to his trinket a grimace.

"Technically, you stole that from me," he corrects, eyes still fixed somewhere between the compass and the chest.

"My mistake," I sneer, "not that it works, anyhow."

Jack's eyes dart back to me, "What?" he squeaks.

"It took me fifteen years to find the key," I brace my knuckles against the table, leaning in as close as I can to ridicule that fool. His feet remain firmly planted on the floor but his upper body still leans back accordingly in humiliation, "Fifteen years! That's all I want Sparrow. I _want_ that key. I _want _to control the seas. I _want _to be King. I _want _to kill your dear friend Captain Turner in order to be King! _**I want my ship back**_! Fifteen years it takes for this blasted thing to lead me to the Triangle, though I should have fingered a man like you to hide it here. This compass is a useless artifact worth about as much as its previous owner!"

Jack's eyes narrow quizzically. He's silent for moment, deep in one of his silly thoughts. It takes him all of half a minute to realize I'm speaking about him. He gulps, "oh."

I turn my back to him and run a hand through my hair in frustration. Not only do I want to be King, not only do I want _my_ ship, The Black Pearl, returned to its rightful owner, but I _need_ it. I _need_ to control the seas. I _need_ to show that damned wench of a Goddess just how dangerous I can be, and what better way to show her then by killing one of her servants? I'd steal the sea right out from under her.

"You don't want the ship most," Jack breaths softly, his finger on his chin. His eyes are fixed on the chest in concentration. I can almost see the light bulb forming over his head.

"I beg your pardon?" I hiss. His eyes dart back to me again.

"You want power," he says, his eyebrows rising in excitement. Jack takes the liberty to take a stroll about the table, making flamboyant hand gestures as he speaks, "What you want most is not a psychical item mate. You want the power and authority of King, and the ability to control the ocean. Want _you _want most," he lays a hand on my chest, "is ta be restored to your former glory."

I push his hand away, "Are you trying to tell me that your silly compass would not work for me because what I want most is power, not the psychical items needed to obtain such power?"

"Yes," he nods grinning, "and it's a power you so deserve my friend."

"Don't try to flatter me Jack,"

"You're right, I thought I crossed the line a bit," he takes a few steps back, "but I can truly give it to you mate. Ya see, I know exactly what I want most. I want the Pearl, and if ya give me that compass I'd have no problem what so ever findin' the Pearl…for you, savvy?"

"Explain to me again why I should trust you to do that, I must have missed it the first time,"

Jack reaches into his coat pocket pulls forth the key to the Dead Man's Chest, dangling between his thumb and index finger, "because I can give you what you want most mate. I can give you the Pirate King, Captain of the Flying Dutchman," I reach for the key but Jack withdraws his hand quickly, "in exchange for me compass."

"Which you would use to lead me to the Pearl,"

"In exchange you don't kill me," he adds, completing his offer. It is a deal I cannot refuse to make. Though I can't make any promises when it comes to sparing Jack's life. In fact, I might as well just keep my fingers crossed.

"Deal," I saw, slipping my hand into his and shaking his flimsy arm.

"Great!" I snatch the key from his hand just as he grabs the compass from off the table. He flips it open, sighs in relief (obviously happy with what it shows) and snaps it back shut, "now if you'll just return me to the Dutchman I'll fetch good ole Captain Turner fo' ya-"

"Who said anything about you leaving?" My guards stop him before he can slip out the door, "I don't have any intention of you leaving my sight till you find me the Pearl, that and I plan to kill Turner right here and claim my title."

"Right here?" Jack asks doubtfully, raising a brow, "wouldn't it be so much better, if you could see the look on Turner's face as you kill 'im and steal back what was rightfully yours?"

I contemplate this for moment, and realize how much I crave to see the horrible look of agony and defeat on Turner's face as I stab his heart.

"Very well," I say pocketing the key and grabbing my dagger, "Carlos, bring the chest up top. Sparrow," he tilts his head forward, "find me Turner."

"Yes your Majesty," he says, making a grand gesture of bowing. He even places his hat across his chest.

"Oh Sparrow," he halts, stopped by one of my guards again, "take these two with you," I gesture to the two I picked up earlier. I've no use for them anymore. Jack Sparrow's eyes shift to the two smiling buffoons.

"Must I?"

_

* * *

_

_Will_

Elizabeth kissed Andy. That's all I can think. My jealousy for it is driving me completely mad. Did I push her away? Did I drive her to do this? Does she love him?

I know he adores her. He looks at her the same way I do. I used to think I was the only person in the world capable of looking at Elizabeth like that. I hate him for taking that away from me. The same way I hated Jack when he took Elizabeth's lips away from me. Elizabeth was right. I thought she loved him then. But the way I still catch Jack looking at her from time to time makes me feel unsure of at least his emotions.

Ferrara's grand white yacht appears at our side with her Captain standing on deck. He surveys the fight taking place aboard my ship with the slightest of smiles. If he thinks he is going to win this battle he is surely mistaken. The moment Ferrara's ship is completely level with mine he calls for his men to return to him. Is he retreating?

"Cap'n!" To say seeing Pintel and Ragetti being tossed off the deck of the yacht and onto mine would be an understatement. They're exactly the same as I left them. This makes me worry.

"Where is your Captain?" Ferrara commands once the fighting has ceased. Silence reigns. I try to take a step forward, knowing my responsibility for my ship. Elizabeth's delicate hand grips my arm, keeping me in place. I wasn't even aware she was standing next to me. He gaze darts around the deck, searching.

"Where are Jack and Andy?" she whispers. Just the two names I wanted to hear.

"Show me your Captain or I will kill the boy!" Ferrara yells, as if on cue, as the pirate I dueled earlier lifts Andy onto Ferrara's deck, holding a knife to his throat. Elizabeth gasps. She grips my arm tighter in fear. Everyone else on board is silent, trying their hardest not to give me away.

"Diego," Ferrara's servant presses the knife harder against Andy's neck. I can't let him to this. Not to Elizabeth.

"No!" I shout, stepping out of Elizabeth's grasp.

"And who are you?" Ferrara asks.

"Nobody!" Jack yells appearing, just as suddenly as Ferrara's ship had, in front of me, "Nobody. My second cousin's, uncle's, nephew's granddaughter's, brother's, former best man twice removed. French. Completely obsessed with raisins he is. Lovely singing voice," Jack forms pretend scissors with his fingers, "Eunuch."

"My name is William Turner. I'm the Captain of this ship," Ferrara glares at Jack, who backs away timidly.

"Whatever happened to _not_ doin' anything stupid?" he whispers as he passes me.

Ferrara studies me for a moment, "Captain Turner, I did not recognize you without your bandana. A pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty."

"Majesty?"

"You are Captain Turner, the Pirate King, are you not?" Ferrara's voice betrays the frustration his eyes are hiding. Elizabeth and I look over our shoulders at Jack, twiddling his thumbs pretending he's not here.

"You told him this," I accuse.

"What?" he pretends to be shocked at my accusation, "I did no so such thing." His eyes dart back to Andy.

"I didn't believe you for a second when you said Andy would betray us," he cares for Elizabeth too much.

"Andy?" she gasps, not following.

"I never said that!"

"Enough!" Ferrara yells, "If you don't mind your Highness I think I'll just kill you now." During our prattle Ferrara withdrew the key he was hiding and unlocks the chest containing my heart. Jack must have no doubt given him that key somehow. My breath catches in my throat as I see the hungry look in his eye. He believes killing me will make him King. I won't correct him. I'll protect Elizabeth till the day I die. Ferrara unsheathes a dagger and prepares to plunge it into my beating heart.

"No!" Elizabeth screams, stepping in front of me, "He's not the one you're after."

"Oh, Miss Lizzie," Ferrara smirks cruelly, "then who is?"

"I am. I'm Captain Elizabeth Turner, King of the Pirates."

**_

* * *

_**

**_Ferrara_**

Jack Sparrow you lying bastard, why didn't I see this before? I should have seen through Sparrow that weasel and all his tricks. I wanted to be King. I wanted to have to glory and power of the title. The compass was never pointing at the key. It was pointing at the girl. The female Captain Turner being protected by who must be her doting husband, his eyes never leave her. The Pirate King is in fact a woman, married to the Captain of the Flying Dutchman. He is the Captain servant to the Goddess Calypso, controller of the seas. The same Captain whose heart I hold in a box before me.

"Diego, throw him back!" I command. Diego releases the boy and he falls to the Dutchman's deck, "retreat!" I yell. My crew returns to me at once, and as they do the Flying Dutchman vanishes into the mist of the Bermuda Triangle.

"You're going to let them go Captain?" Diego questions me. I smile.

"I have a much better idea."


	20. Keep a Weather Eye on the Horizon

Sorry for the deay in update, I was reading Harry Potter over the last three days. But now I'm done and can focus my attention back on this.

Enjoy!

Chapter 20: Keep a Weather Eye on the Horizon 

_Will_

"He's gone?" my father says, "Why would he just retreat like that?"

"So he can finish me off whenever he chooses," My anger is over whelming. I hate Jack. He's betrayed me for the last time. I hate Andy as well for stealing Elizabeth from me. I hate Jack _and_ Andy for stealing Elizabeth from me. I curl my fists, resisting to the urge to strike whoever is nearest to me.

"You!" Elizabeth screams, the tip of her sword is a hair away from piercing Jack's nose. He stands perfectly still, his eyes fixed upon blade and arms held up in fear. No matter hard I may try I don't think I'd ever be able to match the fury burning in Elizabeth's eyes, "You gave Ferrara the key! _You_ told him Will was King! You're killing him Jack!"

"Technically…"

"Shut up!" she screams, jabbing her blade closer to him.

"Elizabeth," I try my best to keep my voice calm. Her screaming isn't easing my temper in the least bit. I can feel the blood drain from my knuckles as I clench my fists tighter.

"I hate you Jack Sparrow!" she whines. Her shrill, high pitched voice is causing my head to ache. I'm wishing she'd either stop her damn yelling or just kill him already.

"Elizabeth," I say through gritted teeth. This time I'm sure my frustration is evident.

"How could you?" she doesn't hear me and continues. Tears brim her eyes. I should feel sorry. I should comfort her, lie to her and tell her everything is going to be alright. But I can't. There's something pulling inside me, fueling my aggravation for her.

"Elizabeth shut up!" I shout when I can no longer stand the sight of her teary eyes or the sound of her whining. As I yell I pull her roughly away from jack and strike her cheek with the back of my hand as hard I can. This soothes the beast growling deep in my chest, but only for a moment. It's still hungry.

Elizabeth clutches the red welt forming in the shape of my hand on the side of her porcelain face. The ship is silent, stunned by my actions. I suddenly realize what I've done. I hit her. The woman I love. A single tear escapes her watery eyes and glides down her stained cheek.

"Elizabeth I'm sorry," I reach for her, confused by my sudden act of violence against her but wanting so bad to repent. She takes the tiniest of steps away. She's afraid of me. "I don't know what came over me,"

_Kill her._

The hungry animal inside my chest is growling once more, wanting to taste blood.

_Kill her._

The urge is overpowering. I can't stop myself. Without thinking I grab Elizabeth by the wrist, longing to make it snap. Everyone on board jumps but still does nothing, trusting me far too much to let go. I pull her closer as she wriggles in my grasp, her second hand clawing at mine. She gasps and winces in pain, jerking herself away from me. The more she struggles, the more pressure I apply.

"Will stop it, you're hurting me!" she cries. I know I'm hurting her. I don't want to, yet at the same time it's all I can think about. Every muscle in my body aches to see her lying dead across the deck. "Will let go," she sniffles.

"I can't," my voice is hardly above a whisper. Our eyes meet, hers plead with me, begging for me to stop. I have no control over my hand as it twists harder against her wrist. I want to through myself over board as I watch her face distort in pain. She doesn't cry out, though I know she must be using all of her willpower not to. Her only reaction is to wince and bite her lip as she stares unblinkingly into my eyes.

"William that's enough!" my father says sternly as he grabs my arm. I release Elizabeth only to punch him hard across his face. He stumbles back a bit, not expecting me to strike him. What is wrong with me?

_Kill her._

_"Ferrara wants the chest. Within the chest is my heart. Ferrara takes my heart, then he controls me, your humble servant and by controlling me he would undoubtedly push for control of the seas…"_ My voice echoes back to me from some distant memory.

"Will stop this," Elizabeth brings me back to reality. She cradles her sore wrist in her other hand, her cheek abandoned though the mark shows no sign of fading. Andy is at her side. Her façade is that of the fearless and stoic leader she knows she should be, but she's trembling far too much to pull that off at the moment. I draw my sword with haste and aim it for her neck. My arms shake as I fight to keep still.

"Get in the longboat," I command, my voice equally shaky.

Elizabeth is taken aback by this, "What? Will no-"

"William I think you just need to calm yerself down now mate, nice an' easy," Jack attempts a few steps closer and the direction of my sword changes to him.

"It's Ferrara," I try to explain, my whole body shaking, "He has the heart. He's doing this." I don't need to explain any further.

_Kill her._

His voice swims in my head. My body wishes to obey while my mind is trying it's best to fight a losing battle. Elizabeth can't stay here. It isn't safe. I'll hurt her. I'll kill her.

"Jack!" it's strange how desperately I now trust him, "take her and leave."

"No," Elizabeth runs for me, but Andy holds her back, saving her from the point of my sword.

"Take everyone and get them into the longboat!" my eyes lock once more with Elizabeth, "take them to land, you'll be safer there."

"No Will I won't leave you!" she cries, breaking free from Andy rushing to me once more. It takes all my strength to simply drop the sword and wrap my arms protectively around her. I hold her for as long as possible, crushing her against me. I can feel her heart beating frantically inside her chest. I run my fingers through her soft hair as I kiss her for what I fear may be the last time.

"I love you," I whisper reassuringly to her.

"I love you too," she replies in the same tone. She buries her face into my chest and squeezes me tightly. All of my anger for her has melted away completely, replaced by a more sinister fear. I bury my nose into her hair, breathing her scent in deeply. I want to keep as much of her with me for as long as possible. "Will don't do this," she whispers.

"I have no choice," I say softly into her hair. The barnacles growing on my skin itch as my hand uncontrollably grabs a chuck on her hair and pulls. My other hand lashes at her neck. She doesn't scream as I curl my fingers around her neck, merely gasps in a mixture of surprise and acceptance. It makes me feel hollow. Before I realize it Elizabeth is stumbling free as my father restrains me, pulling both my arms behind my back. She makes an attempt to move closer to me once she's caught her breath again.

"Go," I say. Elizabeth shakes her head. My body struggles against my father's grip, "Jack take her, go!"

Pintell, Ragetti, Gibbs, Anamaria, Cotton, and Marty have already crowded themselves into the longboat hanging over the Dutchman's edge. They keep their sad eyes from making contact with mine. Jack sighs, "Aye Captain," he says solemnly, fully aware with the duty in which I trust him. Keep Elizabeth safe. I know her cares for her in some way; he'll get her to land and keep her there, even if it means tricking her, something Jack is very skilled at. He reaches gently for Elizabeth's arm, also not making eye contact with me still fighting to break lose. She pulls away.

"No Will I won't leave you!" her voice is watered with tears booming in determination. I my minds eye I can hazily see her sobbing these very words over my dying body, a sword of my own design protruding from my chest. She's made up her mind to stay, to see me through this.

_Kill her._

I can't let her stay.

Jack keeps Elizabeth from taking any steps closer by forcefully pinning her arms behind her as my father did to me. Though my father fights to keep me in place, Jack fights against Elizabeth's squirms and kicks to drag her toward the small life boat. "I won't leave you!" Jack dragged her away from me then too, during that battle with Davy Jones and Beckett. He saved both our lives that day. If Elizabeth had stayed aboard the Dutchman she surely would have been lost or drowned as we went under. Yet again Jack is saving her from certain death upon the Dutchman, and yet again he's also saving as well as condemning me. He's saved me then from death and condemned me to an eternity of captaining this ship. Now he saves me from killing Elizabeth, and has condemned me to a fate worse then death by Ferrara's hand.

"Will no!" desperately trying to break free Elizabeth practically leaps forward, but Jack's grip keeps her moving backwards, "I won't leave you!" she screams through her tears. Andy has now climbed into the boat and is helping Jack secure Elizabeth there.

"Go!" I yell again as all of them hesitate, showing no signs of movement. I'm afraid they'll all change their minds and decide to stick by their temporary Captain in the same valiant and courageous way Elizabeth wants to. Would it be so unlikely for this group of pirates to do such thing? It doesn't matter. They mustn't stay, they wouldn't be safe.

"_I won't leave you_!" Elizabeth sobs. I can't take it anymore. I shake free of my father's grasp, find my sword laying harmlessly upon the deck and dash for the boat before any others have I chance to stop me. Elizabeth leans toward my approach, arms still held by Jack, hope lighting her face. I hate disappointing her. I cut the ropes holding the boat aloft at my ships side.

"**WILL!**" Elizabeth shrieks as they fall. The longboat splashes into the sea beneath a layer of fog. I see their silhouettes sitting in the boat as Gibbs paddles the longboat away. The only colour left in the scene is Elizabeth, whose figure has and always will be more then a shadow to me. Tears drip from her golden eyes as she screams my name. She looks beautiful. She's the last one I see before the fog engulfs the tiny boat completely, muffling her cries.

I love you Elizabeth.

"Keep a weather eye on the horizon," I say quietly into the now still, foggy air. This time it's a warning instead of a promise. I won't be able to control myself for much longer, I can feel it. The raging beast claws inside my chest, ripping all my thoughts and memories and feelings to shreds. A singular command keeps pushing in my mind, numbing what ever else is left of me.

_Kill her._


	21. Whose Side is Jack On?

I think it's only been a work, maybe a few days over, but it feels like forever since my last update. Sorry for the delay. I've been a rather easily distracted person lately.

Enjoy!

Chapter 21: Whose Side is Jack On? 

_Elizabeth_

"Will!" I scream, furious at the thick fog obscuring my final glimpse of Will standing aboard the Flying Dutchman. He's looking down at me, a blankly dark expression eclipsing over his handsome face. "I won't leave you! _Will!_" my voice is growing hoarse as I yell. The ship is nothing more then a dark shadow, slowly shrinking in size. I can't see Will anymore. I scream his name again and again, tears flooding down my cheeks. No one makes any motion to console me. I can't believe this is happening to him, I won't believe it! How can any man be so cruel as to force a husband into murdering his wife?!

Slowly my excruciating cries die out, fading in volume. Jack, who held my arms painfully behind my back for fear I may leap from the boat and swim for the Dutchman at any moment, loosens his grip. My arms slip and fall to my side, accepting my surrender. No. I can't. I won't let myself surrender like this. I won't just give up on him. I'll save you Will! I promise! I promised I'd get the chest back before it's too late, and it's not, I won't allow it to be. I love you Will Turner, and I'll come back to you, and I won't leave until Ferrara is dead and you're free of his curse.

From the corner of my wet eye I spy a green cloth floating peacefully past our dinghy. I snatch it, recognizing it at once to be Will's bandana. The cloth is soggy and not as comforting as I hoped it would be as I warp it tight around my previously cut hand already wearing a piece of the bandana as a match shift bandage. I clutch it, crushing it in my fists, staring down at it only because I can no long see Will's ship through the fog.

There is a long, disturbing silence after my calls to Will cease completely, replaced by the occasional sniffle. I haven't stopped crying yet. I can feel the awkwardness expanding amongst the others though my back is turned to them. I can sense Jack's black eyes gazing guiltily and pitifully at me. I never want to lay my eyes upon him again.

Mr. Gibbs breaks the silence first, addressing Pintel and Ragetti, whose presence I hadn't questioned in my grief, "What the blazes were ya doin' on that ship?"

"'E picked us up," Pintell answers, beginning a conversation I have no desire join, "We's was floatin' in one o' them rowboats. Don' know 'ow long."

"First we's was lost in the afterlife, then the triangle, as Ferra put it," his partner Ragetti continues.

"Ya don't mean…" one of the boats we saw my deceased father in? Gibbs is asking the question without saying the words.

"Dat's right," Pintell says, "we's was picked up by da Captain after-" He pauses for a moment, regretting his mention of Will, "well you know." He means death.

"'E put us in a boat after a while," Ragetti doesn't seem to notice the caution his friend used when mentioning my husband, "Dare was an islan' in da distance. Said dat's where we was supposed ta go."

"We started paddlin' for it," Pintel picks up the story in his naturally gruff and hoarse voice, "but afta' the Dutchamn 'ad left we realized we already knew 'ow ta get back ta da livin' world."

"Sunrise sets flash o' green," Ragetti parrots, nearly giggling.

"Don' know 'ow long we's was wandering in the seas a da afterlife for,"

"It was hot, it was!"

"Or 'ow long we'd been floatin' 'round in dis place after we's finally managed ta get aselves back."

"Flip right over our boat did!" I can almost see the intense glare Pintel must be giving the one eyed man as he keeps interrupting his tale.

"Any 'ow Ferrara picked us up and now 'ere we are."

"Land ho! Land ho!" Mr. Cotton's parrot squawks from on top his shoulder; I can hear the fluttering of the birds wings as well. The wood of the boat creeks a little as everyone turns to see if it's true. Not even I can resist the temptation to turn around. No one is looking at me; they all look ahead at the mass of sand and palm trees through the thinning fog.

"S'it real?" Ragetti asks wryly, "S'it just a mirage?"

"Let's hope not," Andy says sitting in front of me. He turns; I face the back of the boat once more, not wanting to look at any of them just yet. They had all so willing gone. They left the Dutchman with no complaints, abandoning Will and the others.

It doesn't take us long to reach the small island, that in fact was not a mirage. Mr. Gibbs, Pintel and Ragetti became rather superstitious rather quickly, muttering things and doing a little sort of dance Mr. Gibbs said would keep them from vanishing on the spot. Andy offers me his hand after he climbed out of the boat, hoping to help me up. I don't take it. I don't want to get up or step foot on the sandy beach. Being on land means being an entire world away from Will, that and I can't help but think of the last time I became stranded on a deserted island with the infuriating Captain Jack Sparrow.

I hop out of the boat anyway, but only to avoid the mildly confused and devoid of speech Andy, who did not move from his spot in the sand. I walk along the beach, allowing the warm water to wash over my feet and ankles and the strong breeze to toy with my hair and clothes. I do not look up or meet the gaze of any of my companions. Everything they did was steadily beginning to angry me; from Mr. Cotton's squawking parrot, to hushed plans of escape or retreat or the fact that Jack Sparrow is also fleeing the group in his usual lopsided strut.

I pick up the first broken piece of shell I find and throw it at him, only (to the fright of superstitious others) to watch it disappear in thin air before it even reaches him. I continue to chuck shells, pebbles and clumps of wet sand in his direction. I watch them all either miss, or those on target vanish before they hit him.

"Jack Sparrow you coward!" my voice is hoarse, it's the first time I've spoken in what feels like a century, "I hate you! Why won't you go back and help him!"

"Why should I?" Jack retorts from a safe distance, "So you can stick to your little plan 'bout havin' me lead ya to the Pearl, to _my_ ship, _my _freedom so you can take it out from under me to save the already dead life o' the whelp?!"

He knew of our plan. Truthfully I'm not surprised. I can feel his anger rising to match my own, but I don't care anymore. I want him, _need _him to do something spectacular and courageous at the last second, saving us all. Then the truth strikes me like a bullet.

"Because you're the one who keeps Will and I together!" a fresh wave of tears string in my eyes, "You always have! You're the reason we met Jack. _You _told Barbossa about the Illa de Muerta. It was because of the mutiny against _you_ Bootstrap that sent the medallion to Will. The Black Pearl destroyed Will's ship and mine saved him. We met because _you_ sought cursed Aztec gold."

Jack contemplates this information; I keep talking, taking a step closer to him with every sentence. My voice is sincere, what I'm telling him is true. He's seemed to have let his guard down now, no longer fearing nor feeling guilty about my angry wrath.

"You helped Will rescue me from Barbossa," my voice grows softer as I approach "Granted you only wanted the Pearl back for yourself when it all started but you still saved us. You could have let Barbossa kill us and take the Pearl but you didn't."

He smiles a bit smugly at my compliment.

"You're the one who gave me the compass, showed me how to rescue Will by finding the heart of Davy Jones. Granted again you were only in it to save yourself at first but again still. You're also the one who gave up your first, no wait second, chance at immortality to save Will's life after Davy Jones stabbed him. "

"Well, you might as well just give me a metal then," he's feeling quite proud of himself now.

"You're even the reason that brought Will and I back together in this lifetime as well because…because" I'm beginning to remember my feelings toward him back on the Dutchman, "Because Ferrara hates you."

"Beg pardon?" he was expecting a congratulations.

My tone changes to one of fury, "_You_ stole Ferrara's ship! Don't lie to me Jack I saw it in a dream! _You_ gave Ferrara the compass!"

"Technically he stole-"

"_You_ told Ferrara that Will was the Pirate King!" I push hard on this chest; he wobbles but doesn't fall, "_You_ gave him the key! Ferrara is controlling Will right now because of _you_! This is all _your_ fault Jack Sparrow, you bastard! You got us into this mess and now you're just running away like the coward you are, not bothering to stick around and fix it!"

"Wait a minute, when did I stop bein' the hero o' this story?" I push him again and immediately after move in for a third shove but he flails his arms out to block me.

"You were never a hero Jack! You're nothing but a coward, always running away!" I kick sand at him as I stumble back, over loaded with anger. It's at this point Jack's temper seems to snap as well, lashing out at me like he did the last time we were left to rot on a tiny island. Just like the last time when the truth came spilling out of him.

"For your information Missy I had no intentions of allowing your husband to killed and or controlled by Cap'n Ferrara, savvy? I was 'oping that one of you two _geniuses_ would 'ave the sense ta take the key from Ferrara's 'and, as he so grandly presented it ta you. My idea by the way, otherwise 'e would o' just killed dear William while neither of you were lookin', but no. You two lovebirds had ta argue over who gave who the key and stupidly reveal yerselves ta be the number one people on bleedin' Ferrara's 'it list! I took the key, simply 'cause I needed it ta trade 'im fo' this!"

He pulls the black domed compass from one of his coat pockets and waves it across my face.

"I 'ad planned ta use ta find the Pearl, and kill that filthy bastard before 'e kills us! Which, I might add, would 'ave worked if _you_ 'ad only noticed that bleedin' key! Though now it seems I 'ave a change in me plans, that you seem ta believe is me bein' a coward and runnin' away. In actuality I 'ad planned ta _still_ use me compass ta find the Pearl before 'e does, though now I'm sure it'll take less time for 'im to find is away 'round this place with the Dutchman by 'is side, would o' been lost fo' days without it or the compass. I also plan ta rescue dear William from the clutches of Ferrara's evil grasp, some 'ow, and let you two 'ave yer 'appily ever after endin', Savvy? Don't forget who took _your_ side during the war, your _Majesty_."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. Is this the truth, or just more lies? "Just whose side are you on Jack Sparrow?" I can hear tears in my voice. I wasn't aware I was crying.

"I ain't on nobody's side but me own Love, s'everybody else who chooses," With that he turns on the spot and ventures off to his own semi-remote piece on island. He plops down in the sand, leans his back against a palm tree truck and pulls his hat over his eyes to think. I'm still frozen in place, unsure how much of Jack's story I should believe but also wanting every word of it to be true. Even if it is the truth it still doesn't change anything now. We're stranded on an island in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle with not one, but two pirate ships after us. We don't even have any rum.

"Hey," Andy places a hand on my shoulder, "you gonna be alright?" I shouldn't be so angry with him or the others. He cares about me; in his eyes my safety comes first, just like Will.

I give a small nod in response. He guides to the spot on the island where the others attempt at building a fire. The sun, where ever in the surrounding fog it may be, will be setting soon.

Thump-thump…

Will holds me safely in his arms, stroking my hair as I nestle my head against his chest. The steady rise and fall of his chest while he breathes soothes me. I take a deep lung full of air as well, drinking in his permanent scent of sea air. I remember when he used to smell of smoke and metal back at Port Royal. I keep my eyes closed, ready to fall asleep at any moment.

A romantic, music box melody I can just barely recognize dances circles in my ears. It started off faint, but the tighter Will squeezes me the louder and more distinct it becomes.

"I'm so sorry Elizabeth," Will whispers softly, happily, "I should have never of told you to go. Everything is alright. You're safe here." His body is so warm, so inviting. I lift my head from his shirt to move in for a much craved for kiss. I can feel Will's lips hovering mere inches away from mine, his breath cascades over me. the only thing ruining this moment is that ridiculous melody, taunting me in my dreams.

"I love you Will," I say. He doesn't respond. He doesn't even move forward to kiss me. Something's wrong. "Will?"

I choke on my own breath when the cold metal pierces my chest. My eyes flash open. Will is standing before me, but his eyes are not the same deep brown I know them to be. They're darker, black and soulless and possessed by an evil I hadn't thought possible. A warm liquid trickles over my lips, spewing from the corners of my mouth. The thick metallic taste on my tongue tells me that it's blood. I can feel it pouring out of my body from the wound over my heart, squeezing its way around the sharp blade that's broken my skin. Will stares coldly into my eyes as he watches me die, holding me at his level by the sword running through my chest and out my back. My blood drips off the point of his blade, the sound of it swirls amidst the taunting music.

Thump-thump.

For the first time I wonder if it hadn't been Will's heart I was hearing beat and fade, but my own throbbing in my ears as it slowly dies, murdered by the one it loves most.

The images in my mind are suddenly that of a kaleidoscope, swirling and changing rapidly to create knew ones. The pain of death leaves me, replaced by absolute nothingness. The image of my new surroundings takes shape and I recognize it to be the meeting room of the Brethren Court at Ship Wreck Cove.

The room is full, stuffed with as many shabby looking pirates as possible. Every face of the eager pirates portrays their anxiousness for what's about to come. Eight out of nine seats of the oval table are occupied with stranger's faces, though each holds peculiarly familiar objects in their hands. One holds a stiff, white playing card between his fingers; another is a pair of spectacles. The most peculiar object I notice is a small wooden ball that its owner rolls lazily back and forth between his hands. At least to anyone watching the patched pirate it appears to be simply a ball, though I know it to be the crude wooden eye of Ragetti, rolling between its first owner's fingers. These items are the nine pieces of eight. I'm witnessing the first Brethren Court.

A deeply tanned man with thick black hair stands in the ninth spot at the head of the table. His Spanish accent is heavy in his speech. Captain Ferrara.

"No longer will I have a woman control my seas!" he shouts, his face bares the angered expression I'm becoming accustomed to, "The ocean is for us men, the pirates to command!"

His fellow pirates chant and cheer. None of them are women.

"We are the ones who sail in these waters!" he continues feverishly, "We are the men who have made these seas our homes, our territories, our kingdoms! How dare this witch, this self proclaimed Goddess forbid our ships to sail! For too long she has tossed our vessels about like nothing more then leaves in the wind, on what she calls her ocean. I lost my ship, the Pearl, to this witch and I will not allow it to happen again! That is why I stand here before you gentlemen, my fellow Lords, as the first elected King by the code of the newly established Brethren Court!" More cheering, "I suggested that we must bind Calypso, forever in her human form so she is not to bother us again, and with the help of our dear friend Captain Jones we have succeeded in doing just that!"

Captain Ferrara makes a show of retrieving an item from one of his pockets. He twirls it in his fingers before revealing it to the rest of the Court; a small, thin almost flat, round, gold bead with curved edges. I know in the future that this bead will come to be worn with an assortment of others by none other then Captain Jack Sparrow. I wonder if Ferrara knows Jack had it, the first Brethren Court happened to long ago for him to pass it to Jack directly. If he does know, then that's probably another reason why Ferrara hates him.

"And now gentlemen I present to you the Sea Goddess witch Calypso, powerless!" Ferrara snaps his fingers and two more pirates enter the scene. They force with them a women tied in thick ropes. Her contempt for the pirates is in no way subtle as she glares at them, especially Ferrara. Calypso is exactly the same woman I met two hundred years ago with her long dread locks and blackened teeth. She is a sight I find strangely comforting.

Ferrara wastes no time in showing Calypso whose boss. He slaps her hard across the face and the other pirates in the room snicker. Is he aware of the fatal mistakes he keeps making?

"Look at me wench!" he roars to Calypso, whose face is obscured by her hair, "Behold the sea's new master!"

As she lifts her head she cats him a sly, all knowing smile, "You will die a tragic fate Captain, an' one more deserving ta be King shall take your place." She warns.

"None is a better King then me," he laughs at her. She smiles again, that same sly smile. Then her eyes move, and I'm sure she's looking straight at me.

"We shall see abou' dat," she snickers.

My body is jolted awake the moment my dream ends, or at least at the moment I assume it ends. I'm lying on my back, drenched in sweat and sand sticks too me because of it. Though my breathing is quick and my pulse races I don't get up, but simply lay there in the sand as I regain complete consciousness. I'm lying flat on my back actually, and I could have sworn I was leaning against a palm tree when I drifted to sleep last night. I turn my head slightly in the sand. From the looks of thing I'm the only one awake. Anamaria, who last night fell asleep next to me, now lays several yards away. I somehow doubt she's a sleepwalker.

I lift my upper body from the sand slowly, watching the tiny grains fall as I stretch from the uncomfortable sleep. The ocean draws my attention, crawling up and down the beach in noisy waves. My heart goes to Will. I miss him. My mind wonders back to my nightmare, featuring just the two of us. I'm scared for him. I'm scared for us all.

_"It's always belonged to you, will you keep it safe?"_

I should have, but I didn't.

I need to find him. I need to save him. I'll get in the longboat and go now, before every wakes so they can't stop me. I spring to my feet, my early morning fatigue replaced by seemingly boundless energy. There's still hope Will, don't give up just yet, don't give in! I'm coming for you! It's up to me now. I won't let you down Will, not this time.

It would all just be so much easier if I could find the longboat. It too seems to have disappeared during the night. I scan the beach for any sign of it, praying it's merely relocated to a different spot on the island. I lift my hand to shield my eyes from the glaring sun, the fog from yesterday having entirely lifted. There it is! I've spotted the longboat, bobbing between the waves as it drifts away from our little island. I could jump in and swim for it, it's not too far. But…there's something else floating along with it. When I squint, I can tell it's more of a _someone_ else sitting inside of it, fleeing.

"**Jack Sparrow you lying bastard**!"

Jack

"Jack Sparrow you lying bastard!" Elizabeth has quite the set o' vocal cords on 'er, bein' able to scream that loud from that far away. She begins screamin' even more insults and curses at me, throwing what looks like handfuls of sand and broken shells a pathetically short distance. She's goin' ta walk everybody up if she keeps goin' on like that. 'Er tantrum on the beach grows smaller and smaller as I row away from 'em. She screams an' cries an' yells, but I keep on rowin' out to sea. If she didn't 'ate me before, small chance of that, she certainly well 'ates me now.

"Sorry Love, shoulda told ya I plan on keepin' me word ta William too," I take a quick peek at me compass. Good, I'm headin' in the right direction.


	22. At the Moment

I'd like to announce that Reincarnation has made it into the "Not Quite Hall of Fame" of the Pirates of the Caribbean Fan Fiction Hall of Fame forum. I'd also like to say congrats to latebloomer04, a loyal reader and fabulous reviewer of Reincarnation, for making into the Hall of Fame with a few of your stories. Keep up the good work. Also I'd like to thank all my reviewers, I know have over 100. Yay!

Oh, and for this chapter, three words: Norrington Lovers Rejoice.

Chapter 22: At the Moment 

_**Ferrara**_

All is quiet as I set foot aboard the Flying Dutchman, the newest addition to my noble fleet. The crew all bow their heads to me in resentment. I'm sure given the chance they would love the opportunity to kill me, but so long as their Captain is my newest servant they have no choice. One man in particularly glares at me with such contempt and utter loathing, it's strange how much he resembles the Captain. The filthy bastard spits at my feet as I pass him. Diego, obedient as ever, lunges for the man grabbing him by his shirt collar.

"Leave him alone," a loud but shaky voice demands. It belongs to the good Captain Turner. He too stares daggers of hatred at me. Oh well, Diego was stubborn too at first, but all men can be tamed.

"You heard the Captain Diego, put the man down," I don't need to glance behind to know my dog is following orders. I wait till everything is quiet again before speaking.

"How is your wife?" I coo. Captain Turner's solid face falters. First I see confusion and puzzlement run ramped across him, swirling in his semi-mindless brown eyes. Next I sense a single spark of recognition igniting deep within his memory, followed by, my personal favorite, agony.

"You didn't kill her," I take a step, beginning my journey to circle this romantic sap, "You disobeyed my orders."

"I w-won't kill her," he struggles, unable to meet my gaze. I continue to circle him, like vultures over a fresh carcass. I place on hand on Turner's shoulder. My grip is tight but he does not flinch.

"I'm sorry to hear that Captain Turner but I'm afraid that kind of decision is simply out of the question," I lean closer to whisper in his ear, much like the way Jack once whispered the couple's name into mine, "You _will_ kill her Captain. First you will forget her, just as I'm sure you already were before this little conversation. Then, you will hunt her down along with Jack Sparrow and the others. You _will_ kill every last one of them, starting with that pathetic bitch of yours so you can officially claim for me the title of Pirate King. And Turner, I won't you to stare at her with as much loathing as you just held for me, so that when she looks into your eyes in her dying moments she won't be able to recognize the _murderer _you've become."

_**

* * *

**_

_**Andy**_

Lizzie just sits there, allowing water to slide over her feet, sinking them into the wet sand. She rests her chin on her knees, unable to tear her eyes away from the horizon. Every so often a shell or two will wash up next to her, which she would then promptly throw back out to sea as hard as she can, cursing Jack Sparrow. It's been a little more then an hour since he abandoned us here on this island. Lizzie discovered his escape first; her shouting was what woke the rest of us. While everyone else looks for food or a way to escape, Liz just sits there staring into the ocean with tears brimming her eyes. So much has happened in the past few days. First pirates, then explosions, keys, chests, caves, giant sea monsters and now a King has appeared. Of all things, a Pirate King, seems a bit contradictory to me.

I feel terrible though. Lizzie just lost the guy she loves, and I know that's the very reason why I hate him, but I should at least be comforting her as a friend. Liz and I haven't actually spoken much since we left the Flying Dutchman. She hasn't said much to anyone. I can't figure out though, if I'm avoiding her or she's avoiding me. I don't understand why either of us would be avoiding each other at all. Maybe she's afraid I'll say something like "I told you so," or "he's a pirate, what did you expect?". Maybe I'm afraid to say anything because I'm still not sure which pirate captain I'm referring to. Maybe I just don't want to hurt her anymore.

"Hey Lizzie," I say, adopting her same position on beach beside her. She keeps looking straight ahead.

"He's betrayed me again," she says absent mindedly.

"Jack?" she rolls her eyes, I suppose that was a stupid question.

"Every time I think I can trust him he goes and does something like this," she picks a small shell from the wet sand and tosses back into the waves, "again."

"Again? You mean something like this has happened before?" for the first time since leaving the ship Liz turns to face me, "Are you saying Jack Sparrow keeps screwing you over and you keep letting him? You keep_ trusting_ that scumbag?"

"Well…yes," she says slowly.

"Why?" I thought you were smarter than that Liz.

"Because he is a good man," Liz says, now suddenly coming to his defense.

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"Neither does Jack!" she rolls her eyes again.

"He told Ferrara that Will was the Pirate King, granted I have no idea what significance a King would have among pirates but I know that's somehow important. I suppose I should have thanked him for stepping forward to save my life while I had the chance but I think what you did was even braver."

She squints her eyes in confusion, sensing how I'm about to go off topic. "What I did?" she asks.

"Pretending to be the Pirate King to save both our lives, lot a good it did, look at us now!" I can't hold my questions back any longer, "Who is the real Pirate King, Liz? Why is he so important? To be honest I wouldn't be surprised if he was Jack Sparrow, since he's so keen on only protecting himself."

Lizzie stares at me, blinking with her mouth ajar. Was it something I said?

"Andy, I _am_ the Pirate King," she says. She must be joking.

"No really," I chuckle, maybe her mood has lightened?

"_No really!_" she yells, standing abruptly and flinging sand into my mouth. I don't think I've ever seen her look so insulted, "I am Captain Elizabeth Turner, successor of Captain Sao Feng of Singapore as one of the nine Pirate Lords of the Brethren Court, _voted_ King of all pirates by fellow Lord, Captain Jack Sparrow!"

I stand to meet her height, "But you're a woman!"

"So!" I was wrong about another thing; I don't think I've ever seen Liz look _this_ insulted before.

"I just meant…wouldn't that make you Queen?"

"Not necessarily!" she yells back.

"Hey!" the little guy, Marty, yells to us before either I or Liz have a chance to continue yelling. He stands with that other guy, Cotton, and his pirate at the end of the tree line. "We found something in the trees! Come quick!"

Liz and I both rush after him, already retreating back in the shade of the trees. We run without a word, kicking up sand behind us. It doesn't take us long to reach our destination, this island isn't very big. Everyone is crowded around this thing, staring in awe. It's mangled, old and broken, with pieces of it either half buried or stuck in scared trees, but it was once definitely an airplane. A very old airplane, weather beaten with faded paint and broke wings. No sign of a pilot.

"Wot the Devil is 'at?" The bald one, Pintel I think his name was, asks.

"Looks like some sort o' giant bird ta me," his friend replies.

"Birds don' look like 'at," he turns to me, "do they?"

I shake my head, "it's a plane." Pintel smiles and nods for a moment, happy with my ruling of the plane not being a bird. Then he spots, confusion spread across his features. He obviously doesn't know what a plane is.

"What's that smell?" Ann asks.

"Smells like gasoline to me," Gibson replies.

"Gas?" I say, "No way this thing is too old. It can't still have gas in it…could it?"

"S'pose anything's possible," Gibson shrugs.

"They're probably out looking for us," Liz says quietly, our attention is drawn to her, "We've been missing for days. Somebody's bond to notice that we haven't come home, or that pieces of your yacht have probably washed up onto the beach by now." We say nothing in response, "Pirates attacked! Somebody had to have noticed that! My house was practically destroyed. There were dead men lying on the docks. Somebody _has_ to be looking for us. Andy's father is rich he'd send somebody, the police, coast guard, search parties, anyone!"

"What are you saying?" I ask.

"I'm saying give them something to look for!" we're quiet, "a signal!"

"A signal?"

"Yes! C'mon, we have an island full of palm trees and plane full of gasoline. A fire like that would be hard not to notice, especially with the smoke," she begins to search the sandy ground. She waves at Pintel and his friend, "you two help me," she says once she's found two suitable sticks for her liking. The two pirates are more then happy to help, though I'm sure they are hopelessly unaware of what they are helping.

"Liz we can't start a gigantic fire on this island!"

"Why not, it's the perfect signal," after instructing the other two how to theoretically start a fire with sticks she gestures for all of us to start backing away from the plane. Truthfully we all scurry fearfully from the wreck, knowing there's no chance of Liz backing down from this idea. Before I would have stood in the way of the old Lizzie, knowing perfectly she wouldn't go through with such a risky idea.

"Because it's a fire that's why not! You're going to set this whole island on fire, and then what? We splash around in the ocean for a little while, taking bets on what will catch us first, pirates or sharks, on the off chance some sort of rescue ship might just so happen to be sailing by…in the Bermuda Triangle!" I think I've almost reached the point of a nervous break down. I hate fire. Absolutely hate it. When I was seven I went through a playing with matches faze, let's just say my eyebrows are thankful I won't ever do that again.

"Ships sail through the Triangle all time, don't they? I mean it is awfully big and awfully hard to avoid sailing between Florida, Bermuda _and_ Cuba. That _is_ a pretty decent sized patch of ocean, Andy, and not everything disappears. We're standing on this island after all, aren't we? None of us have disappeared. If you don't count Jack," she mumbles viciously under her breathe.

"Why do I get the feeling Amelia Earhart once said the same thing standing on this very beach?"

Lizzie doesn't seem to hear me, she now holds a flaming piece of wood that she'll at any second toss in the trees and at the airplane, I back away "besides fire isn't so bad if we just stay on the beach. Sand doesn't burn."

"How do you know, have you ever done something like this before!"

She looks at me with a little smile playing across her lips, "yes."

She tosses with all her might the makeshift torch into the trees. We all take a few steps back as we watch the fire licking at the palm trees, spreading up their trunks. I've gone so far as to be standing knee deep in sea water. An unexpected blast blows hot air into our faces when the flames reach the remains of the plane's gas tank. Lizzie I hope this plan of yours works.

_

* * *

_

"At the moment my ship seems to be in a general," I pause to take a peek at me old friend an' trusty compass. The arrow points to me right, "That way direction!" The little Jackies on me shoulders applaud my superb navigational decision. Course findin' the Pearl would be considerably easier if it weren't fo' all this bloody fog. That _and_ me compass keeps changin' every time the Pearl vanishes are reappears someplace else. As it turns out she doesn't like to stay in one spot fo' too long. It would also help if I had some rum.

"Don' you feel just a wee bit guilty, Jackie?" I whisper into me own ear.

"Leavin' 'er all alone on the beach like that?" My second replica asks from me left.

"Ya did say ya wanted to 'elp 'er," the one on my right says before takin' a swig o' rum from 'is miniature bottle.

"Where did you get rum?" I ask. 'E shrugs; from me own imagination I guess, "An' wot are you talkin' about, I am 'elpin' 'er."

"'Ow does she know yer not just goin' ta leave 'er there?" Jackie on me left asks.

"'Ow do _we_ know yer not just goin' ta leave 'er there an' take the Pearl all for yer self, savvy?" Jackie on me right continues.

"I made a promise ta Will, keep 'er safe," I respond, rowin' as 'ard as I can, 'oping it will distract me from my evidently one sided conversation.

"The Whelp?" left Jackie asks, I needlessly nod, "Forget the Whelp, take the Pearl, take Elizabeth and sail off into the sunset. Then, you get yer own 'appy endin'."

"_Or_ you could save Will, like you told Elizabeth you would, and watch 'em sail off into the sunset…er well, watch one of 'em, an' have a guilt free conscious knowing you unselfishly brought 'bout their own bittersweet endin'…again." Right Jackie swings from me beads. I stop rowin' in order to digest all this information.

"Whose side are _you_ on?" I ask 'em, curious to 'ear my own outcome.

"Me? I-I'm on yer right," one Jackie stutters. I raise an eyebrow at 'im, 'e points to me other side, "an' 'e's on yer left."

I look, left Jackie waves, "Abandon ship,"

"Wot?"

The dinghy crushes rather roughly into the side o' somethin' big, knockin' me 'ard on the back o' me 'ead. Course the dinghy ain't too sturdy an' smashes ta pieces out from under me. Beneath the water I kick around, hittin' me foot against the same 'ard wooden surface as me head. I swim for the surface and upon meetin' air I spy the most gorgeous ship in the Caribbean, just floatin' right there in front o' me: The Black Pearl.

"Good ta see you again Love,"

_

* * *

_

"How long has it been?" Anamaria coughs on a puffy cloud of smoke the wind has blown in our direction. We sit along the beach, Andy practically in the surf, waiting for a ship or a plane or any other sign of human life to reach us. The flames burning up the trees in the middle of the small island are hot and the smoke smells awful. I keep expecting to see white sails over that horizon, but then I have to keep reminding myself that times have changed. They don't use ships like that anymore. Truthfully, instead of white sails I'd settle for black, and what I want most is to see a green flash illuminate the sky. I know neither of these things will happen either.

"About an hour," Andy responds, "maybe more."

I can feel all of their eyes on me, doubting me. If nobody finds us then we'll all be stranded on a charred island with no food, no water and no shade. It'll be all my fault too.

"Does anybody see anythin'?" Ragetti asks.

"Wind in the sails, wind in sails," Mr. Cotton's parrot crows before taking flight. The flaps past me and through a wall of gray smoke cutting us off the rest of the beach. The smoke swirls and dissipates a little where the parrot pushed through.

"We figure mostly that means yes…" Mr. Gibbs says to himself. We all rise, slowly, from our places in the sand to follow the bird. I push my way through the thick and foul smoke, holding my breath as I do so. On the other side I'm greeted first the parrot, sitting contently on a large rock. In distance a decent sized, sterling white boat floats lazily just off shore. I can see a man at the wheel, and he likewise sees me and no doubt the others emerging from the dark cloud. He changes course and starts in our direction.

"We're saved!" Pintel yells rather joyously. He and Ragetti begin skipping and prancing about on the beach. The lock elbows and begin dance around in a circle. Anamaria locks Mr. Cotton in a firm hug, squealing in happiness. I'm sure he would be yelping too if he could. Mr. Gibb's raises Marty high above his head and spins him singing that classic pirate's tune. Andy rushes up behind me to give me a one armed hug around my shoulders.

"You did it Liz," he says, "it worked." I can't help but break into a smile as he runs to hug Anamaria.

I focus my attention back to our rescuer. His boat has reached the shallows and can no further. He quickly shuts the engine and releases the anchor. I don't think there's anyone else on board. I'm so anxious to get on the boat I'd be willing to leap head first into the ocean and swim for it, but luckily he has a raft and plans to come to us. The others cheer him on in excitement as he hops into the large raft and paddles our way, allowing the waves to take him most of the way.

The man's features become clearer and more defined as he gets closer to our beach. I'm squinting, second guessing myself about whose face I'd swear I'd just seen. Gibbs is standing beside me, no doubt doing the same.

"My God," he says to me, "Is that-"

_"So this is where your heart truly lies?"_

"James Norrington," I finish.

"The Commodore! It is him!" Mr. Gibbs chuckles as James drags his raft up onto the sand. I can't remember ever seeing him like this, in shorts and a plain t-shirt. I'm so used to seeing him in that silly uniform and powdered wig, I'd almost forgotten his natural color to be brown. He looks up from his task and finds me, a smile of recognition spreads over him. It's only then I realize that I'm the only one still standing in my place, everyone else has gathered to him, speaking far too loud and far too quickly to be understood. There's something wrong, he doesn't greet them as I expected him to. He merely gives the crowd a rather quizzical look, not really seeing them. He ignores the others and walks toward, leaving deep footprints in the wet sand.

"Elizabeth," he says, nearly out of breath once he is close. I've never been so glad to hear his voice.

"James," I say softly, still shocked by the mere sight of him.

"What? Why are calling-"

"Jim!" Andy yells, leading the pack in my direction. Jim?

"Andy? Andy!" James turns to meet him. How on earth could they possibly know each other? "and Ann! Thank God you are safe! I've been looking for you for days. Andy's boat, there was nothing left, and Lizzie your house, some people say they saw you get kidnapped by pirates of all things, right off the beach! How did this happen? Were you hurt? Who are these people? Where is my brother?"

I gasp, covering my mouth. "Lizzie?" he asks, facing me once more.

It all comes flooding back. My mind has been caught in the place where my past meets the present that I had completely forgotten I'm not Elizabeth Swann, daughter of the governor of Port Royal turned Pirate King. I am, was, Lizzie Summerset, former girlfriend of Andrew Durden, friend of Ann Marrisol and Jeffrey Norris. Jeff, my friend who was killed what feel likes centuries ago, had an elder brother named Jim. Jim was in the Navy, now he's home to spend time with his family before taking the sailing trip he's always wanted. From the Caribbean to Hawaii, that was his dream. He never reached the station of Commodore or Admiral, nor did he ever want to.

"Liz," I haven't said anything for a while, I haven't stopped looking at him either, "Lizzie what's wrong? Where's Jeff?"

He doesn't remember any of it. Not me, not Port Royal, nor Will or Jack or Lord Cutler Beckett or Davy Jones, and his untimely death aboard the Flying Dutchman. He gave his life for me once, and he doesn't even know it.

"Oh James I'm so sorry," I can't tell if he's heard me. My voice is low and my hand still covers my mouth.

"What is it? Why…" he sees the tears threatening at the corners of my eyes, "Jeff? What is it? What happened to him?"

"James he's dead," I whisper, withdrawing my hand. He takes a step back.

"No," he looks to Anamaria and Andy, hoping they'll call me liar. They don't, but simply shake their heads quietly in remorse, "No."

"I'm so sorry,"

"How…" his voice is cracking.

"It's true," I continue, "Pirates killed him. They blow up Andy's yacht with dynamite and…" I can't continue, though by now there's no need for me to.

"No, this can't be true," he already knows it is. He draws his hand up to his face to cover his eyes and hide his silent tears. We look away, knowing he wouldn't want us to see him cry. A sob breaks from him, and I feel a tear slip down my own cheek. It's the first tear I've shed for my friend Jeffrey. Andy moves closer to James, patting him on the back. I too move in, taking his hand in mine. Honestly even with all the people I've lost in the course of two lifetimes, I still don't know how to comfort him.

It takes James a few more minutes of silence for him to regain his composure. He knows there's nothing more we can do about Jeff, his priority now is going to our rescue. Even if he believes the story I dread to tell him, I know he won't let me fight, not now, especially since he doesn't remember.

"We should be getting to the boat," he says in a watery voice, pretending his tears were never shed, "Everyone's looking for you, they've sent search parties out. How did you end up here? Who are these other people Lizzie?"

He's call me Lizzie. Of course he calls me Lizzie nobody calls me Elizabeth, not in this lifetime. But before…

"You called me Elizabeth,"

"What? What are you talking about?" he attempts to slips his hand away from, suddenly fearful of this topic. I grab it, not letting him go.

"Before you called me Elizabeth,"

"I was worried,"

"Nobody calls me Elizabeth not even when they're worried, Andy doesn't. You've never called me Elizabeth before." He stares back at me puzzled, he must think I'm mad for bringing the subject of my name up at a time like this, "How did you find us?"

"I followed the smoke signal," he tries to pull away again. Commodore James Norrington followed a different smoke signal of mine once; I wonder of that little repressed subconscious part of him remembers that. Parts of me remembered things I consciously couldn't; I saw them in my dreams. I would watch the sunset every night endlessly waiting, not knowing it was Will who I waited for.

"Why did you follow it?"

"I knew it had to be…" he doesn't finish. He's questioning himself. I can see it in his eyes.

"How did you know? I was the first person you saw on this beach James, even though Andy and Anamaria stood right beside you. How did you know it was me?" Gibbs knows what I'm up to, I sense it. I think Anamaria does too.

"Why do you keep calling me James? _You've_ never called me that before,"

"Liz cut it out!" Andy has had enough and attempts to pull Norrington away from me, neither of us so much as budge.

"Because that is your name, isn't it? James Norrington?" Something small ignites behind his eyes. Perhaps it's the same spark of memory I felt upon seeing my beloved's bare heart lying at the bottom of a chest. Perhaps the only jolt the former Commodore needed was to hear his name again.

"Into the raft," he orders in the stern tone I know only to belong to that James Norrington. I allow him to slip his hand away from mine finally, though I can feel he does so regrettably. He clasps both his hands behind his back while straightening his posture. Nobody moves nor speaks, "Now Miss Swann."

I do believe Andy's brain may have exploded in confusion. His jaw hangs open almost wide enough for me to see the flames.

"It's Mrs. Turner actually," he bites his lip in pain. It doesn't take long for James to recover from the blow.

"Is it?"

"Yes,"

"And where is Mr. Turner?" I pause for a moment, contemplating how much of the story I should tell him.

"He's aboard the Flying Dutchman, captive," I want to settle for that but my mouth won't stop talking, "He's Captain of the Flying Dutchman actually. He stabbed the heart of Davy Jones and now must take his place as ferryman of souls lost at sea to the underworld, as ordered by the Sea Goddess Calypso, who I don't think you ever met actually, but she was Davy Jones' lover and the reason why he tore his heart out in the first place. If Will doesn't to the duty set out for him then he will become a monster just like Jones did," he hurts so much to that, "I was named King of the Pirates at the Brethren Court, thanks to none other then your favorite rival Captain Jack Sparrow. Captain Barbossa married Will and I on the deck of the Black Pearl during the final battle, before Jones stabbed Will and Jack helped him to stab Jones' heart.

"I, like you and Mr. Gibbs and others were reincarnated I guess into the lifetime. Jack actually managed to find the Fountain of Youth so he and the Pearl are now immortal, but as it turns out the Black Pearl wasn't really Jack's ship to begin with. It was the first Pirate King's, Captain Ferrara." The others tighten and gasp, I hadn't revealed that bit to them yet, "Jones' raised the Pearl from the depths for Jack, that's the reason for Jack's debt, after it had been sunk by Calypso. Well back then Captain Ferrara was so angry that he created the Brethren Court to bind Calypso in a human form, but she was then released by Barbossa right after I had become King. Well, Ferrara is back and he believes that the title of King should still be rightfully his, as well as Pearl. Jack is gone; he left us to find the Pearl before Ferrara can. Since the Brethren Court died when Calypso was freed it means that I'm still King. Therefore Ferrara wishes to kill me to reclaim his title, and Calypso wants me to kill him to keep him from controlling her ocean, which I suppose now he does since he has Will's heart and controls him like Beckett once controlled Davy Jones."

He won't say anything, but I know that last bit struck a cord of sympathy within him.

"And I suppose instead of keeping you safe and out of harms way you want me to help rescue your husband from the clutches of this evil Ferrara and save the day?"

"Please?" James sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Get into the raft, all of you."

I jump to give him a hug, "thank you."

"What just happened?" I hear Andy ask Mr. Gibbs as we drag the raft back into the surf. Gibbs hesitates for a moment, thinking of a way to explain but decides not to and merely brushes Andy off with a grunt and a sigh.


	23. Ello Poppet

My Muse is back with a vengeance! I finally know how exactly to bring this story to a closing (within the next few chapters) and have even posted a new Fic in the Moulin Rouge section. It's good to be inspired!

Enjoy!

Chapter 23: 'Ello Poppet

_Elizabeth_

The further out to sea we travel the denser this cold fog becomes. The sky above us has turned several darkening shades of gray, threatening a storm. James has said anything to us since he took to wheel and now speeds us along. He stares ahead of us, his brows knit tightly in concentration and sometimes puzzlement. I can feel that we're traveling deeper into the Triangle with this damp fog so thick. James refuses to slow down though, a matter of pride at stake. He also refuses to admit we're lost in the realm of the Bermuda Triangle. It's not his fault; I would have been more surprised if he knew exactly where we were down to the last degree of latitude. If Ferrara or the Dutchman or something else finds us now we'd be completely vulnerable. I guess I hadn't thought this rescue plan all the way through. I've even asked James to endanger his own life to help us, and he agreed. This isn't the first time he's been willing to risk everything for me.

"Thank you," I say so only he can hear me over the wind as I kneel by his side, "You're always there for me when I need you most." I think he's blushing.

"You needn't of told me everything you did back there, Elizabeth," I'm silent for a moment, wondering if he'll continue without be prompted. He does, "What do you think happened to me after my untimely demise aboard your husband's ship?"

He waits for me to answer, "I-I don't know."

"I ended up back on it," he chuckles slightly, "Only this time it had a different Captain, one willing to share the completion of a story that started ten years prior on the crossing from England." His eyes stray from the mist ahead to glance at me for a moment, he's smiling at me, "Congratulations Mrs. Turner," his voice is sad yet sincere at the same time, "he's a good man."

I smile at James, wordlessly thanking him for his long overdo approval of Will. He turns his attention back to stirring, a smirk still on his face. So somewhere deep down inside of James Norrington he likes William Turner after all. I don't feel so guilty about asking him to help us anymore. I know in my heart that to see me safe and happy is what James wants most. He would have helped whether I asked him to or not.

"I should have left you on that island," he says absently.

"What?!"

"He can't go land, and it would have been harder for them to find you. You would have been safer there, we both know that." The look on his face suggests he's contemplating turning around. I should have known him wanting to keep me safe would come back to bite me.

Suddenly James' boat begins to make a sputtering sound, like a cough. My hair falls knotted on my shoulders from lack of wind. We're slowing down. James fettles with the controls, perplexed. Nothing he does improves our situation and within minutes our boat has completed halted.

"What's going on?" Andy asks.

"Why 'ave we stopped, Commodore?" Mr. Gibbs still refers to James by his once title.

"I don't know," James quickly gets up from the controls and pushes past Pintel and Ragetti to check to engine at the back. Andy follows, hoping to help.

"Could it be out of gas?" Andy offers.

"It shouldn't be," James grunts in frustration.

A shiver runs down my spine as I watch them inspect the engine. The fog, thick and white, encloses us. The white mist floats aboard, making it difficult to see from one end of the boat to the other. It isn't an overly large vessel other. My pulse quickens, I can feel my heart beating rapidly inside my chest. All I can see is the fog. We're lost. I'm lost hopelessly lost and I've simply been standing in place. The other's voices drift away even though I know they stand only a few feet from me, making me feel more positively alone then ever before.

"Dead men tell no tales…" Mr. Cotton's parrot squawks, its voice long and drawn out. Though I cannot hear nor see them I'm sure it's hushed everyone aboard. I turn around, perhaps I can still see them, but I'm just facing the wrong direction. That idea doesn't work. I turn again, nothing. I keep turning till I'm practically spinning in circles. Where am I? Which is right and which is left? Which way is up or down?

"Up… is down…" The voice of Jack Sparrow echoes in my memory.

The damp mist glides against my skin, giving my chills. I'm breathing heavier, afraid for myself and everyone else who surrounds me. At least, I hope they still surround me. Have they disappeared into the unholy fog of the Triangle as well?

I yelp and leap from my place as I feel two calloused fingers trace a path down my neck. When I spin around I see no one's face, as expected. Perhaps the fog is playing tricks on my mind as well. None of my companions make a sound after my outburst, have they all really left me?

A moist, warm puff of air falls on my neck as well. I spin as fast as I can, swatting my arms at the empty space behind me. It was just the fog. No one else is here, Elizabeth. The fog is playing tricks on you. You're alone. You're standing alone in the middle of the ocean on a boat that won't start.

Thump-thump.

No. I'm not hearing this again, not this sound!

Thump-thump.

It's teasing me. I don't know from which side of me the noise comes. It's faint, but definite.

Thump-thump.

It's the beating of Will's heart, slow and calm compared to my frantic pulse.

Thump-thump.

Each time I hear it gets closer, then farther away, and then close again. I'm panicking. I can't be here, not alone, if Ferrara or Will comes. I won't stand a chance.

"Yo ho, altogether..." I begin to sing in order to keep what little nerves I have left, "Hoist the colours high." My voice cracks, I'm on the verge of tears. You're braver then this Elizabeth. Why does this scare you so much? But I already know the answer: because I've seen this all before, and all before it ended badly.

"Come 'ere Poppet!" Pintel's rough voice calls out to me. It echoes in the fog, or in my memory. I can't tell which is which anymore.

"Heave ho, thieves and beggars…" I continue to sing, my voice low and soft.

"Never say we die, Love!" Jack Sparrow yells from above me, the _real_ Jack Sparrow. A large black mass penetrates the heavy mist, such a large wooden structure in unmistakable; the Black Pearl. He found it. Jack Sparrow found his ship and is now coming to save me. I smile unwillingly, still angry with him but grateful that his heroic side is showing once more.

The Pearl is merely inches away from the edge of James' boat, visible now that I'm no longer paralyzed by my fear. Pintel and Ragetti are on their knees at the top of the ship's ladder. Pintel calls me "poppet" once more and urges me to come aboard. I haven't the slightest idea how they managed to climb aboard the Pearl without my noticing.

"Liz!" Andy hangs over the side of the ship, "Liz I thought we'd lost you!"

Not all is as it seems in the Bermuda Triangle. Things vanish without warning for no reason at all. Perhaps it was just luck that I managed to turn up again.

"Come on now, we 'aven't got all day!" Jack shouts from the helm, his voice rushed. A low and bitter rumble of thunder yawns above us, awakening the storm yet to come. James has climbed half way down the ladder and extends his arm to. I reach my own arm forward to take his hand.

Thump-thump.

The simple noise has rendered me immobile. My pulse jolts into a rush again, and for a moment I stop breathing. James stares at my quizzically, urging me to take his hand but I can't. He and the others don't know what's coming.

More thunder growls in the distance, mixing the roar of breaking water. The Flying Dutchman appears, grandly as ever, soaring up from beneath the surface. The waves the ship creates jumble the boat I stand on causing me to lose my balance. James reaches for me but misses and my shoulder rams the side of the Black Pearl with an unhealthy thud. I'm embarrassed by my squeal of pain, however muted it was by the sound and water drenching me from over head. I use my uninjured arm to brace my self against the Pearl as I spit salt water from my mouth.

"Elizabeth come on," I open my eyes to see James reaching for me, concerned. Behind him a streak of lightening illuminates the fog followed by another clash of thunder. I glance over my shoulder instead of accepting James' help. The Flying Dutchman floats parallel to the Pearl, water dripping from every pore. On either side of the vast ship a white yacht slides into view. Ferrara stands stoic on the deck of the one to my left, a smug grin forming at the corners of his mouth. He's cornered me. Three ships against one. He's pitting an immortal ship against one with a crew ten.

"Hello your Majesty," Ferrara addresses me, his voice more threatening then the growling thunder. He keeps one hand over the chest. I look away from him; my eyes are drawn to Will, standing unfazed and unblinking on the deck of his own ship. I hate the evil gleam in his eyes. "I have a feeling you two may want to get reacquainted," he chirps, "Captain."

At Ferrara's command Will draws his sword, his uncharacteristic gaze fixated upon me. What scares me most is how I do not recognize the man I fell in love with anymore. It's enough to make me wish I could surrender.

"Elizabeth!" James yells as he grabs me by the shoulders. A man from Ferrara's second ship has taken the opportunity to light a stick of dynamite and toss it in my direction. James pulls me up onto the ladder as the sparking hits the deck. I've never been pulled anywhere so fast in my life as a mixture of hands grab James and I and drag us aboard. Within seconds the spark of the stick's fuse has reached its end, and the whole thing explodes just as another crack of lightening brightens the sky. The smaller boat explodes and disappears amidst the smoke and fog and fire. The force of the explosion violently rocks the Pearl. I slide across the deck, on my back, as the ship tilts.

"Run out the guns!" Captain Jack orders. I can hear the cannons moving below deck where I have no doubt Gibbs, Cotton, Marty and Anamaria have been ready all along. I spy Jack about to open his mouth once more, wasting no time to shout his next instruction. I scurry to my feet with some difficulty; the impending storm has given us waves to rival that of the explosion.

"Wait!" I shout. Jack of course stares at me as if I'm mad. When I look beyond the Pearl's deck I can Ferrara climbing aboard the Dutchman, one of his men readying a flag. I turn back to Jack, "Hoist the colours."

Jack grins, "Aye hoist the colours!" he orders. Pintel and Ragetti do just that. I watch as they string up Jack's flag, a scull and crossbones adorned with beads turned on its side to face a red sparrow. I like this design.

"**Fire!**" Jack's yell snaps my attention away from his flag and at our opponents. The Pearl trembles with the rush of cannon fire, the booms amplified by thunder. The moment the cannon balls leave their guns a sheet of cold rain begins to fall from the blackened sky. Our cannons have hit their targets, Ferrara is short one sterling white yacht and a gapping hole decorates the other. Our battle, of Pirate versus Murderer has begun.


	24. Stop Blowin' Holes in My Ship

The day my Muse returns in the day my internet dies, go figure. Ah well, enjoy this chapter, some of you may want to keep a kleenex or two ready, I almost had to.

Chapter 24: Stop Blowin' Holes in My Ship!

**_Ferrara_**

Men scream and yell abandoning ship as my second yacht sinks because of those bastards. All those who retreat are cowards. I have taken refuge from the cannon fire aboard the Flying Dutchman. A mixture of smoke, rain and fog make it difficult to see our opponent defiling my ship. I wonder if Jack Sparrow knew I wouldn't dare fire at that ship, my Pearl, when he released his cannons upon me. No matter. There are only ten of them compared to all who serve me. Winning is as simple as storming the ship. Then this ridiculous little battle would be over quickly and easily, and I will finally be able to take back what is rightfully mine.

"Carlos," he turns his frightened face toward me, though I am not given the chance to finish my command. A cannon ball strikes only a few feet in front of the man catapulting him backwards, pity.

Before I can give orders to the rest of my crew a strong wave tosses the Dutchman, rocking it severely. I hold tight to the wood to keep from slipping across the deck like the rest of those fools. Ahead of me all I can see is rain and fog, no trace of the Pearl. The black ship blends perfectly in these conditions. I know she's still there. I can hear the shouting of those unfortunate enough to climb aboard without my orders. Through the heavy rain several gunshots are fired, followed the sound a body makes when it splashes into the sea.

I can hear the wood of the Dutchman creak and loose objects roll about below deck as another wave rocks the vessel on the opposite side. A few men I recognize from my crew slide down the wet deck on their backs. They hit the ship's rail quite hard and fall right over the edge into the angry sea. These conditions are going to make things difficult.

"Captain," the Captain of the Flying Dutchman is at my side in a moment, "Take some of your men and charge the Pearl. Kill the girl, and cut down anyone who stands in your way." He nods, then calls for some of his crew to follow him as he fades into the storm.

I catch Diego by the shoulder as he strides past, "Make sure he does as ordered," I say to him, referring to the Captain. Like Turner, Diego nods and follows the immortals into the storm.

**

* * *

**

**_Andy_**

"We can't even _see_ Ferrara's ships anymore!" I'm forced to yell over the cracking thunder and pouring rain. It had certainly been easier to attack when we could see our target. Our second round of cannon fire was shot at random. It was by luck we hit anything, though I can't tell how much damage was done there was quite a loud crash. Afterward some of Ferrara's mine tried to climb aboard. I don't know if they were actually trying to attack us or had simply mistaken our ship for theirs, we didn't keep them on the Pearl long enough to find out.

Gibson and Ann raced up from below deck with guns in their arms. They threw us each a pistol and we fired down as they attempted to crawl up the ship's sides. I haven't the slightest idea if I hit someone. I almost hope I didn't.

"Andy here," Lizzie extends her arm to me; in her hand she holds a sword.

"Are you serious?" the look on her face tells me she is, "I've never used one of these things before!"

"Then maybe now's the perfect time to learn!" She yells, thrusting the sword into my hands. What can I do with this? Does Lizzie really expect me to kill people? She seems to have no problem with it…and that scares me. I thought I knew Lizzie so well once, I guess I was wrong. This is the real Lizzie, the fiery, domineering, beautiful and brave Pirate King.

A sudden jolt sends both mine and Lizzie's feet out from under us. It's another wave thrashing against the hull of the Pearl. Lizzie, graceful as ever, grabs hold of something to keep from sliding over the deck. I on the other hand fall flat on my stomach, losing sight of her. The point of a sword stabs the wooden deck inches from where I lay. My eyes wonder up to find the blade's master; the same guy who held a knife to my throat last time we saw Ferrara and his crew.

"Get up," he sneers.

* * *

_Elizabeth_

I grab hold of the nearest object to keep from falling when the wave hits. I stare down at my feet as the ship leans, almost afraid that if I don't keep watch I'll lose them. It's so hard to see anything through this storm. I can't even look end to end across the Pearl, let alone see anything Ferrara might have coming for us. Suddenly I can hear men yelling and swords clash across the deck. I can only assume some of Ferrara's troops have now made it aboard. If he keeps sending them we'll be out numbered no time. Did I ever really expect to win this battle?

"Elizabeth!" James shouts my name over the storm in warning. I look back at him over my shoulder. He's dueling a member of Will's crew I recognize; the man called Rusty. His attention is no longer on me but focused now on his opponent. I don't have time to contemplate his warning for long. In front of me a pair of boots hit the deck hard. My heads snaps back to face my enemy, I'm prepared to fight.

"Will…" My breath leaves me as I see Will standing before me, an evil glint in his black eyes. He raises his sword to strike with lightening speed; I barely have time to stop his blow from severing me by unsheathing my own sword as quick as possible. Will is the best swordsman I know, he taught me everything I know about fighting. I don't stand a chance at beating him. He pulls his blade away from mine, preparing to strike me again.

"Will, it's me Elizabeth!" I plead, but I see no change in his cold eyes staring me down. When he raises his arm again I can spy a trail of barnacles continuing to grow down it. I'm forced to choke back my tears. This time I bring my blade up to meet his, holding it high over my head with both hands. My arms tremble as Will applies more strength to his sword, "Will stop it!"

I scream as my arms suddenly give out. My feet have fallen away beneath me as another wave rocks the Pearl dramatically. I landed on my chest when I fell and now my body slides down the wet deck. Will's sword strikes the deck where I once stood before he comes sliding after me. I attempt to stand while moving, to no avail. My back collides fiercely with the ship's railing, sending a sharp pain through my previously injured arm and shoulder. I hiss in pain, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to focus on something else. I inhale deep, knowing I must open my eyes to face Will. By the time I do he's nearly reached me, his sword posed to stab where I lean. I roll from back onto my stomach against the rail, through gravity makes it a challenge. Will's body collides with wood next to mine, his blade thankfully missing me.

"Will please!" I cry, "I'm Elizabeth!" He swings wildly at my head and I'm forced to block. Our swords clash only for a moment before we both pull them away, "Will I love you!" Before I can stop it Will's hand is around my throat, choking me.

"G-Get away from m-me," he struggles through gritted teeth. Briefly I can see the faintest trace of the real Will Turner beneath Ferrara's mask. Within seconds he's gone again, replaced by puppet his own heart has made him.

The ships rocks again, allowing me to slip free of Will's clutch on my neck. I'm falling again, and I can't afford to be slammed into another piece of the ship. Before my body can crash upon the deck surface and slide again I reach for a nearby rope to keep me steady. With one hand upon it I hold myself upright as I parry an oncoming thrust from Will as he glides past. My feet continue to slip as the ship leans; my rope is the only thing that keeps me from falling. Practically below me now Will grabs hold of something to keep him steady as well. As the Pearl tilts again my feet slide backwards as Will's slide forward, our swords meet and clash as our battle continues.

_

* * *

_

Ferrara's mangy dogs are beginnin' to come aboard _my _ship. I will not stand to have my Black Pearl taken over by the likes o' 'im, that slimy snot-nosed wombat headed little worm. The coward sends 'is frightened men ta do 'is dirty work, while 'r sits peacefully on the Dutchman ta watch. That don't seem very fair, if 'e wants me Pearl 'e should at least 'ave the boons ta take it 'imself. Perhaps I should pay 'im and that 'eart a bit of a visit, eh.

"Misters Pintel and Ragetti!" I yell below deck, where all the cannons an' guns are kept.

"Aye Captain!" They answer simultaneously.

"Fire at anyone who dares to come aboard this ship! They got a bit o' a stretch to swim from the Dutchman to the Pearl, I'd hate fo' 'em to get out o' the water so soon."

"Aye Captain!" They both shout as I venture back on deck. The wood is a bit slipperier then usual. Two of Ferrara's scoundrels jump out in front o' me, takin' me by surprise. The scowl at me, I think one o' 'em growled at me. I raise a brow in return. Ferrara must not be feedin' 'em right.

I wave me hand at them, "Shoo doggies."

The mutts point their swords at me chest. Apparently they took that to be slightly offensive. They take a few steps closer to me, hungry in their beady eyes.

"C'mon now boys, lets be civil," I grin, they don't. That's funny, if I didn't know any better I'd think me feet were tilted. Oh, an' 'ere comes Marty sliding down the deck right between us. My legs wooble a bit as he does. The two dogs in front o' me watch Marty woosh past in puzzlement before turnin' their gazes back on me. I grab the nearest bolted down object to me.

"Fetch!" I wave after Marty and the two dogs fall to their feet as the Pearl's tilt increases with the waves. O' course I manage to keep me self planted firmly on the ground. It's not so 'ard, the Pearl's practically level now. I grin, an' they couldn't keep themselves up. I release my anchor and continue my stroll across the deck. S' not long before the dogs slide past me a second time, along with some others. Strange, me legs are a bit woobly but other then that I can still balance perfectly. Wonder what's wrong with 'em.

My feet are beginnin' slip away. I glance behind me, the Pearl's rockin' enough to nearly capsize. S 'nearly vertical now… "Oh buggar,"

As expected such a sever tilt flings me off me feet and soon I'm rollin' down the Pearl's deck. Oh buggar, I think I lost my 'at. Maybe it-

"Ouch!" I have reason to believe that the Black Pearl is a significantly sturdy ship. Its rail is unbreakable by force o' human body. Good girl.

"Now I got you!" The growling dog from before 'overs over me, sword aimed at me chin. 'E's droolin' too. Before ole Doggy 'as a chance to decapitate me I'm left with no choice but to roll me self over the edge o' the rail I lean against. It's a good plan, save for the part where I'm hangin' over the edge but just my fingers. On the bright side, Doggy misses an' edges up plungin' 'imself overboard.

A wave kicks at the 'elm o' the Pearl, splashin' my ankles. It rocks the ship so that I'm no longer 'angin' but almost layin' against the side. Now to climb over. Unexpectedly, the moment I stick my 'ead back into view a sword just misses rippin' off me nose an' stabbin' it to the deck.

"Bill Turner?"

"I'm sorry Jack," Bill says as 'e grabs me by the sleeves an' pulls me back over the edge o' my ship, "I've got no choice." 'is voice is full o' regret.

I waste no time jumpin' to my feet and drawin' my own sword to block 'is next attack, "Why don't you try a mutiny? One o' those seem to 'ave worked out fo' you before!"

**

* * *

**

The guy I'm fighting, Diego I think Ferrara called him, is much more skilled with a sword then I am. Our "duel" consists mostly of me backing away from each of his oncoming attacks. I try my best to block him with the sword Lizzie gave me, but each time I do Diego manages to take a fair slice of my arm. No chance I'd ever be able to land a blow on him, my arms are bloody enough. He could kill me at any moment; I'm virtually unarmed with weapon I don't know how to use. Whether it be lucky or unlucky for me Diego likes to play with his food.

All around me people are fighting. More and more of Ferrara's men attempt to board the ship at all times. I'd never seen Mr. Gibson use a sword before. He's nothing like Turner or even Liz but he's certainly better than me. The guy with the parrot, though the bird is no where to be found, and the little guy Marty are even putting up a better fight then I. Don't even get me started on Ann. Whatever pent up anger she's had for the past, I don't know, two hundred years she's dispensing amongst our enemies. Pintel and Ragetti are doing a good job of either blowing most of them away or frightening them into retreat before they even reach us. The ones that slip past don't last long once Jim finds reaches them. Those that do are all crewmen from the Flying Dutchman, loyal to Will their Captain. Despite this loyalty I think they're going surprisingly easy on us, seeing as how they can't die and we can.

The sound of Lizzie squealing draws my attention away from Diego. I look behind me to watch her battling Will with all her might. I'm positive her tears have become mixed with this rain. Will thrusts his sword toward one of Lizzie's legs. With the help of the waves rocking the ship she slides away before being amputated, but is still cut by the blade. Why are my thoughts suddenly drawn back to that night so many years ago, the night of mine and Lizzie's first date? What did that damn cookie say?

_…I crack apart the flaky cookie and slip out the small strip of paper. My fortune says only one thing:_

_Sacrifice. _

_"Well?" Liz prompts._

_"Have a nice day," we laugh, her genuine, mine forced. _

_"How cliché," she says between giggles._

The moment I take to dive into my memory is all the time Diego needs to kick my feet out from under me. My sword clutters to the floor, unreachable from where I lay. Diego snickers manically, I know what's coming but I can't allow myself to be done in by this guy. I have to help Lizzie first.

Diego practically growls as he raises his sword and points it downward at my forehead. I want to look away from him but I can't, so I just lie there half frozen. His blade never cracks open my skull though. Jim bashes the hilt of his sword into Diego's temple from behind and my would-be killer falls to the deck unconscious.

"Thanks," is all I can manage as Jim helps me to my feet. He nods before turning to face another enemy of his own. I rush to find my fallen sword.

* * *

_Jack_

Bill Turner's blade meets mine with as much force as can be expected by a man sent to 'is ole friend by another. Meaning not much, "I'm sorry Jack!" 'e yells as I skip backwards to dodge 'is thrust, "It's not up to me you must know that!"

"Course I bloody well know that!" our swords clang together, "S' not you I wanna fight any 'ow," behind ole Bootstrap I watch 'is son mindlessly stab at the woman 'e loves. Elizabeth trembles 'orribly each time their swords meet, "its Ferrara."

"Ya can't get to him on the Dutchman Jack," Bootstrap advises as 'is sword is blocked by mine, "He'll have your head and he won't let go of the chest!"

"Well then we'll just 'ave to bring 'im an' your boy's 'eart onto the Pearl now won't we," another wave crashes against the Pearl's sides and lightening streaks across the clouds, "watch ya step."

I bow to ole Bill as I grab hold of e ships rail and the lean of the ship sends 'im tumblin' to the other side. If I 'ad me 'at, I'd tip it. Now to deal with Ferrara, course the only ta get to 'im would be through temptation. Guess I'll just 'ave to dive on in.

* * *

_Elizabeth_

I can't hold out in this fight for much longer. I'm in pain and my body shakes when ever I move. My leg is bleeding from where I was cut and my shoulder aches. I try desperately to fight back my tears as well as my pain, but I fail at both. My vision is clouded by water and I can still see the black emptiness of Will's eyes. All I want now is to simply crumple into a heap on the floor and cry at the top of my lungs. What if it's useless? What if I can't save you Will?

I scream out in pain as his blade catches my arm. A ribbon of blood flows down to my hand, staining the green bandage wrapped around it forever. I find myself unable to lift my sword by lack of will power alone. "Will…please…" I plead, "It's me…Elizabeth…please stop it…"

Will's calloused hands hold me tightly by the shoulders. He pins me upright in his grasp so I'm forced to stare deep into those hallowed pits for eyes. Then again, for the slightest of seconds the true Will shines through, biting his lip in agony. "I'm sorry," he says in sorrow before vanishing once again. His grasp on my shoulders tightens and our foreheads collide with remarkable force. He releases me and I stumble back, pressing my palm against my aching skull.

**

* * *

**

I hold tightly to the chest, listening for sounds of victory over the storm. All I hear is thunder and gunshots. This is taking far too long, my patience is wearing thin. Damn it Turner, how long could it possibly take to kill one skinny little girl? And Hell, Jack Sparrow should be dead by now, his corpse floating along in the current!

A sudden blast shakes the Dutchman; my clutch on the chest tightens. The blast obviously that of cannon fire, and I can hear the sound of wood crunching as it hits its target. The cannon however was fired from this vessel.

"Who dares fire upon _my ship?!_" I demand. My orders were clear. My orders were strict. Kill all those aboard but leave the Pearl intact. I will not stand to have my ship destroyed a second time. I'll kill the bastard who disobeyed me.

"Woops, my mistake," Jack Sparrow grins at me from where he stands next to the smoking cannon, the stick used for igniting the gun in his grimy hand. How did he go unnoticed?

"What fool would fire upon their own ship!" I hiss. That bastard means to humiliate me!

"Apparently it's not my ship," he shrugs then adds quickly, "accordin' to you that is."

"**I will kill you Jack Sparrow!**" I roar, unsheathing my sword.

"Well that's not nice," he says grabbing hold of a nearby rope, "You didn't even call me Captain." He says before igniting a second cannon aimed for the Pearl and attached to his rope.

"What type of stunt are you trying to pull with that contraption?!" I clench the hilt of my sword tighter, turning my knuckles white. Only now my men notice this pest and aim their blades at his neck.

""Aven't quite figured that out yet, if you'd like to see the end result then meet me aboard _my_ ship," and at the sound of a bang Sparrow is carried out of sight by his cannon-rope pulley.

"Stay where you are!" I command the more then useless members of my crew. If you want something done right you must do it yourself. You will die Jack Sparrow, and it will be by my hand.

* * *

_Elizabeth_

Metal rings as my sword clashes weakly against Will's. My head throbs. I can barely concentrate on anything or even stand. Though in this battle fatigue does not matter. Will of course hasn't grown tired like I, and he hasn't been injured by my blade like I have by his. We now face each other, our swords locked and our faces only inches apart. The last time Will and I were this close he kissed me and told me how he loved me. Why do I feel like the end is near now, growing closer and closer while that last kiss of ours flies further and further away.

"I love you, Will" I whisper, barely audible into his uncaring face. My hands tremble and his blade wins, knocking mine free from my grasp. He places a hand roughly on my shoulder to keep me in place. His hands are still warm, just as they always were. Will poses his blade to stab me where I stand. I close my eyes. I can't bear to look into that cold and evil stare that has taken over the man I love. A cry escapes my throat and I can feel my tears mingle with the rain dancing on my cheek. I gasp unwillingly as I feel the cold and icy metal pierce my skin.


	25. Dying is the Day Worth Living

Chapter 25: Dying is the Day Worth Living

_Jack_

Ferrara takes the bait. I knew 'e wouldn't be able to resist killin' me 'imself. That's too great of an opportunity to pass up an' let it slip to somebody else, especially to someone like the Whelp. Too bad that slimy git's too proud to realize I'd never blow 'oles in me own ship. Course after ya ship's been sprinkled by the Fountain o' Youth it changes one's perspective.

Ah, 'ere comes Ferrara now, barrelin' through the storm like there ain't no tomorrow. 'Opefully for 'im there isn't one. Ferrara swings from ship to ship on the same loose rope I did, they often come in 'andy. The twat lands swiftly, chest in one 'and and sword in the other.

"I will kill you where you stand Sparrow," _Captain…_ "And take back what is and always will be mine!" 'E growls, much like 'is doggy, as 'e swings at me. I jump back to avoid the 'it keepin' my own sword extended so 'e can't get too close. I don't 'ave to kill 'im, not just yet. All I need at this moment is that chest. My eyes are fixed on it, an' when I lift 'em ta look filthy Ferrara in the eye all I can see is Elizabeth, caught by Will, run threw with a sword.

_

* * *

_

Am I dying? I've been stabbed in the gut. Could Will really have done this to me? The blade is so cold and unfriendly against my skin and I can feel the warmth of my own blood spill over the edges of the blade. I'm dying just as I saw that I would in my dream, only…something's different. Blood does not pool on my tongue, nor do I feel the icy metal lingering inside my body. The only pain the wound causes me is not internal, as if it barely dug into my flesh. I direct my head downward before opening my eyes; I don't want to look into the eyes of a soulless Will.

My eyes open, and what I see is not Will's blade pierced through the whole of my torso. I see a blade being retracted from my skin, my wound deep but not fatal. This sword had already impaled another before touching me. I glance up, past an emotionless Will, to find Andy standing behind him, drawing his sword out of Will's back. Will too stares at the blade protruding from his stomach, his own sword hanging limp at his side. I can't read the expression in Andy's eyes, a mix of bravery and relief, triumph and regret, hope and longing.

The world is moving in slow motion. I feel like I can see every drop of rain that falls. I can feel them hit my cheeks. I feel Will's hand push hard against my shoulder, shoving me to the ground. I don't have the strength to fit it and I fall. I watch helplessly from where I lie, desperately pushing myself upright again, as Will gracefully turns his back on me. He lifts his blade in an exaggerated motion while Andy stands still, confused and defenseless. Will dives his sword deep into Andy's chest, and like me, Andy falls.

"Nooo!" I scream.

* * *

_Jack_

Elizabeth screams. I 'ate it when she makes that sound. Ferrara takes 'er scream as victory an' drops 'is guard to simply smirk at me an' turn 'is back. 'E watches Elizabeth screamin' from the ground with delight as Will plunges 'is weapon into the New Whelp. I can't waste time feelin' sorry for the kid. This is my opportune moment. I skim me blade against Ferrara's wrist while 'e isn't lookin'. Like the pig 'e is 'e squeals in pain as blood washes with the rain. 'E drops the chest an' 'is sword to clutch 'is injured appendage. The chest falls to the ground with an 'eavy thud, an' it's then Ferrara realizes what 'e's done.

'E reaches down for the chest, but I'm quicker. I stomp my foot on it before that swine can lay another finger on a man's 'eart. "It's over Will. Ya can wake up now."

* * *

_Will_

I'm wet, and I feel as though I've woken from death. My muscles are sore from fighting yet fatigue from nearly waking at the same time. My body is tense with rage, though I can feel it washing away with the rain already. Where am I? What has happened? My mind is black, I can't remember anything. The last thing I see in memory is Elizabeth, crying as I tell her farewell. Elizabeth. Oh God I hurt her, I remember it. My hands were around her throat as I told her to get away. I wanted to kill her. No! Ferrara wanted me to. He was the one inside my mind, controlling my every movement. I would never want to kill Elizabeth. I would never willingly harm her. I love her!

"No!" Elizabeth shrieks, pushing past me as if I were invisible. She races for Andy, lying only a few feet from me upon the deck. Blood gushes from the jagged cut in his chest, reminding me of my scar. Andy watches me watch me as Elizabeth kneels at his side, taking his hand in her own and wiping blood from the corners of his mouth. The sword I hadn't realized I was holding until now drops to the deck, tainted by Andy's blood.

"What have I done?" I whisper. No one hears me over the sound of the rain. I step back, not wanting to be anywhere near the pool of blood forming around Andy. The rain dilutes the red liquid as quickly as it spreads from its host, "What have I done?"

Elizabeth sobs as she squeezes Andy's hand; his gaze is no longer on me but on her now. I can do nothing but stand back and watch, afraid to move for fear of any further damage I may cause. What is wrong with me? Have I really become that much of a monster? The back of my hand itches, startling me out of my numbness. I scratch it involuntarily and crusty barnacles crumble to pieces as they fall from my skin.

"No, no ,no," Elizabeth chokes, "No Andy you can't die, you just can't." My heart breaks each time her voice cracks. She lifts his head gently with he spare palm to keep him from choking on blood. Andy, staring at her with love and admiration, grins weakly.

"Why not?" he nearly whispers as blood leaks over his lips, "You won't let me?" He's joking right down to the end.

"Because I'm beginning to think I'm the one who's cursed. Everyone who's ever loved me dies," Elizabeth answers more seriously. It's hard for me to describe the expression on Andy's face, like that of a child being caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Then he smiles again, this time sincere, happy to know that Elizabeth at least recognizes his love for her, if not returns it. No, she loves me. I do not deserve Elizabeth's affection, not anymore, not after what I've done.

Almost as if she's reading my thoughts Elizabeth turns her head slowly to look me in the eye for the first time in what feels like ten years. Her wet hair is plastered to her cheeks, he jaw trembles and I cannot distinguish tears from rain dripping down her beautiful face. Her eyes plead to me a single thought: _Save him._ I won't allow your heart to break again at my fault Elizabeth, nor will I allow your friend to die in vain by my hand.

She turns away from me and back to Andy, frantic and confused. She can't figure out a way to stop his bleeding. I want to go to her, to take a step closer and promise her that everything will be alright but I can't, now more then ever before I fear her judgment.

"What are you waiting for," a low voice heaves behind me, "kill her you idiot!"

I dive for my sword without a moment's hesitation. I do not watch her, nor I can I hear her over the storm, but I can feel Elizabeth gasp slightly as I pluck my blade from the deck. I continue to feel her gaze on my back as my sword smashes against the blade of a man with whom I have an unfinished battle. It is a blade belonging to Ferrara's most loyal servant Diego.

"If you were wise you'd leave now and tell your Captain that he is no longer my master," I growl to him before pulling my blade away. Diego doesn't back down or run away. I never expected him to.

* * *

_Elizabeth_

I can't help but watch Will duel Ferrara's man. I'm mesmerized by the clashing of their swords. Will is protecting us. He's himself again. I can see it in his eyes, his guilt ridden eyes. The tiniest bit of happiness fills my heart knowing that Will has returned. Then I remember Andy dying at my side.

I want to turn my attention back to him but something else catches it as I move. On the far end of the deck I can see Ferrara holding a sword. He and Jack are dueling over custody over the chest that slides about the deck between the two men. Ferrara's arm is wounded.

I glance back at Will, deflecting an oncoming blow but also slipping on the wet deck in the process. My eyes find Jack and Ferrara again, the latter slashes at Jack's chest, drawing a thin ribbon of blood as he inches closer to the chest. My chest. The chest Will gave to me in order to protect. The chest I promised to keep safe at all costs. I look back to Will again, who doesn't notice while his sword is locked with the enemy.

_"I'll get the chest back to you before it's too late, I promise,"_

"I'm sorry Andy," I say clutching his fist tighter.

"What?" he asks weakly.

"I'll come back for you, I swear it," I cup his cheek in my hand, "There's something I must do. Just hold on for me, will you? Please." He nods. I squeeze his hand once more then jump to my feet. I cannot regret leaving him. I have to tell myself that he'll be fine; he'll be okay till I get back. If I had chosen to stay it would have been the biggest regret of my life. Ferrara must be stopped for all the pain and horror he's put me through. He'll pay for everything he's done, every crime he's committed. I'll make him pay.

* * *

_Will_

Diego whips his blade through the air, forcing me to duck. In his rage he drops his guard, allowing me to kick his feet away while on the ground. He falls next to me. I rush to get back onto my feet and take the advantage. My actions are slowed as I watch Elizabeth stride past my view. While I am distracted takes hold of my shirt collar, pulling me back onto the ground. He rises before I can and rests his blade against my neck.

"Do you really think you can save them? Save _him?_" he spits.

"No cause is lost if there is but one fool left to fight for it,"

"You are a fool!" He lifts his blade slightly, going in for the kill. I take this small action as an opportunity that can not be passed. I lift myself off of my back as swiftly as I can, even to allow Diego's blade to skim my neck. His sword will do no good against me. My sword however makes perfect contact with its target in the pit of Diego's chest. He gasps, surprised by my attack. I twist my blade in hatred for him and his master. His eyes bulge in agony as he stumbles back, staring at his blood soaked hands.

"I'd rather be someone's fool then someone's pet," as I rise to my feet in drops to his knees, his eyes to not wander from me as he slumps to the floor and dies.

**

* * *

**

Everything hurts, and what doesn't hurt just feels numb. I'm cold too and I don't think it's just from the rain. So this is it. This is the end? There's no blinding white light like I'd thought there be. Maybe I'm not dying. Maybe I'm okay. I try and will my body to move but nothing happens. All I can do is lie back and wait for it all to be over. I don't want it to be over, not for me. Watching that ass Diego get done in by Will was certainly a crowd pleaser though.

Captain Turner, the Boy Scout that he is, rushes to my side the second he's done killing that bastard.

"I guess we're even," I can feel the blood spurt from my mouth as I speak, "No hard feelings?" I cough.

"I can help you Andy," he's serious isn't he, "But only if you choose to accept it." Will's eyes show concern and unease. He actually cares whether I live or die? Maybe he just feels guilty. No, that's not it. It's Lizzie. He loves her too much to let her watch a childhood friend suffer. Am I really suffering? Suffering would be having to stay one more day on a ship with the two of them making googley eyes at one another. They care about each so much. Lizzie really did find a great guy to be with. He may not be me, but for the first time I'm really okay with that. Will and Elizabeth were meant to be to together. Nothing can change that.

Though that doesn't mean I have to stop trying so suddenly. I'm curious…and in a bit of deadline, "What kind of help?"

**

* * *

**

Even with my one arm immobilized I can still beat Jack Sparrow. My men may be falling but it isn't over yet, I can win this. The Pearl is mine. I deserve it. Just as I deserve to be King. I will kill Jack Sparrow first, and then that insolent girl. I will be Pirate King and force them all to bow down to me.

The chest slides across the deck at my feet and I scurry to remain in front of it. Sparrow does the same to follow me, practically skipping. How can he expect to fight me while he holds a sword in those flimsy arms? I thrust my sword at his chest, but that drunkard nearly trips out of the way. Such a poor excuse for a man should not be able to best me! I will not allow it! I aim for him again, but he parries me with an over exaggerated flick of his wrist. He somehow manages to cut my shoulder. Sparrow grins at his tiny accomplishment. Victory is not yours to have Jack Sparrow. I too cut him at his shoulder. His smug little grin drops.

I cannot feel my arm anymore. I must have lost quite a bit of blood, my entire had is red. I will not let such a slight injury slow me down. I swing rapidly again at Sparrow only to miss completely. My vision is hazing. I feel dizzy.

"Ready to give up yet?" Sparrow laughs. I hate him. I hate every fiber of him. May he rot for all eternity where I'm about to send him. I lock my blade against his.

"See you in Hell Jack Sparrow," I hiss.

"You first," he responds playfully. With a shove his blade tosses mine from me. I'm weaponless. How? How could he have done this to me? How does he do anything!

"Why must you always be one step ahead?" I ask him through my blurred vision and gritted teeth, "Why must you take away everything that was once mine? How do you do it?"

"'Ow? Mate, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow! That's 'ow, savvy?" I can feel the pain of his sword slicing its way through my chest. I hiss as it cuts my flesh on either side. My chest aches. I'm paralyzed where I stand. Damn you Jack Sparrow.

He stares at me quizzically. Then a blade rips itself from my chest, pulling its way out of my back. Sparrow removes his at a slower pace, allowing me to drop to my knees. Hot blood races from my wounds. I turn with what little strength I have left. Behind me stands that girl, Lizzie, her eyes full of fury and he blade wet with my blade.

"Murderer…?" I choke.

"Pirate," she answers calmly. Damn. Damn them all.

* * *

_Will_

The rain has lessened. It no longer pounds against our shoulders but drizzles lightly on our heads. It washes away the blood on the Pearl's deck and from our swords. Elizabeth stands over Ferrara, watching him with a menacing gleam as she restrains her tears. I walk toward them; she glances up, noting my presence. I lean down and Ferrara's attention is on me at once.

"Captain Ferrara, do you fear death?" I ask him. He spits blood at me feet, "Then it's to the locker with you." With that Ferrara's eyes fade into death.

When I stand and look around I can see everyone board staring deeply at Elizabeth, be them friend or foe. Ferrara's men don't know what to do anymore now that they've lost their leader. Elizabeth, still angered, takes charge.

"Bow down before your King!" she yells at them, her voice cracking slightly. They do, and Jack smiles smugly, "The Black Pearl is the possession of Captain Jack Sparrow's now and forever! Your Captain Ferrara is dead, and those of you still aboard this ship who wish to leave with their lives…I suggest you do so quickly."

They obey their King and scamper away. Some go so far as to dive off the sides of the ship and swim for Ferrara's remaining vessel. Most are chased away by the overjoyed pirates loyal to Jack Sparrow. The fog has lifted. I can see the men of my ship cheer us on; pushing Ferrara's remaining crew overboard. My father as well happily takes part in ridding our ships of those vermin.

Behind me Elizabeth releases a heavy breath. I turn to meet her gaze. Elizabeth drops her sword to the deck and leaps forward. She wraps her arms around me tightly and buries her face into my chest. I can feel hot tears slip from her. "Oh Will…" she sighs. For a minute I'm not sure what to say, so I simply run my fingers over her wet hair.

"Elizabeth," I whisper. Her head shoots up at me, her big eyes damp. Gently I remove her arms from me while either of us says nothing. I step out of the way and push her forward. She's puzzled at first, until she sees him.

* * *

_Elizabeth_

"Andy?" I run to him. He stands with Anamaria and Mr. Gibbs completely unharmed, smiling like nothing ever happened. I captive him in my embrace and squeeze tightly, thankful he's alright. "You're alive?" I can't help but laugh a little in my joy.

"With a little help, yeah," he chuckles. My hold on him loosens. Andy nods over my shoulder. Will stands there watching us, alone on the deck. He looks down at his feet when my eyes find him. Now I understand. Andy's made a deal. I face him once more.

"One hundred years ain't so long," he shrugs, sensing my unease, "Of course it won't be easy if I have to put up with _him_ the whole time." He rolls his eyes, referring to my William. I smile.

"You should be more respectful of your Captain," I joke, "Though I know it will be difficult to manage knowing that he and I share a marriage b-"

"That's enough!" he squirms. I laugh at his expense. When I've regained my composer he speaks again, "I guess this means you'll be going home now doesn't it? You know, now that _he's_ dead."

Now _I_ feel as though I've been stabbed in the heart.

"Yes it does,"

"Ahem," Jack interrupts. He holds the chest in his hands, "I think the chest fo' the Pearl would be a fair 'nough trade, don't you?"

"Yes," I nod, taking the chest in my arms, "Thank you."

"Fo' wot?"

"For something I'm sure, though I haven't quite figured out what it is yet," He grins at my reply. Jack mouths an "Oh" and reaches into his pocket as he remembers something.

"'Ere," he presents the key to Will, now standing right beside me. Will contemplates the key dangling before him.

"Keep it," he says.

"Wot?" Jack's eyes pop in shock.

"I trust you Jack," Will leans forward, "you're my friend after all," he says slyly, toying with Jack's conscious.

Jack's face is cast into an utterly painful look of moral dilemma. The temptation of having such an item with him at all times would be outstanding. He'd do something to manipulate someone with it, it be too hard for him not to. Or could he keep it safe, accepting Will's token of friendship? Jack is good man. He'll do the right thing. Now it's my turn.

* * *

James and I sit quietly in a longboat as Will rows us solemnly to sure. Our journey is done. Ferrara is dead and the chest is safe, there's no more reason for me to stay. I said my goodbyes the each member of the Black Pearl's small crew as it and the Dutchman parted ways after the battle. I hugged them each tightly, knowing how much I enjoy their presence and I how much I will miss them when I'm gone. Pintel and Ragetti cried, drawing out faint tears of my own. It's funny how fond of each other we've grown. Anamaria elected to stay behind with the Pearl, after all Jack still owes her a ship and she demands to stay until she receives one. That ragtag bunch of pirates is more a family to her then a drunken father and absent mother any day. Jack was the only one who refused my arms, still wary of the past. Though in a whisper, so nobody else could hear, he did promise to keep the key safe. I'm sure that must have been a difficult thing for him to say.

The Flying Dutchman sailed James and I back to the island, we're as James put it "the entire population is worried sick". The immortal ship anchored as close as it could without being seen. Will volunteered to row us ashore, desperate for us to spend a few more precious seconds together. I likewise gave Bootstrap a hug goodbye, and he confessed how much he'll miss me, and how much Will will miss me. I made him promise to keep watch over his son when I could not. I said my heartfelt goodbyes to Andy as well. He advised me to keep away from pirates from now on, and I advised him once again to respect his new captain.

"Goodbye Will," James shakes Will's hand as we float along side a rickety dock. It's the same dock that reunited Will and I after my memory returned to me, "Good luck out there."

"Same to you," Will replies. James pauses for a moment then climbs out of the small boat and on to the dock.

"I'll just leave you two alone for a moment," he leaves us floating there. In the distance the sun is setting slowly into the ocean. I break the silence between us first.

"I guess this is it then, goodbye for another ten years…" My voice threatens to break and give way to crying. A loose piece hair falls into my eyes as try my best to restrain myself. Will gave me the remains of his green bandana, which I've used to tie back my hair.

"Elizabeth," he pauses for a moment, unsure how to continue, "I'm sorry. For everything,"

"It wasn't your fault,"

"I'll let him go," Will's own voice quivers, "Just say the word and I'll set him free and you could be together. I wouldn't hold it against you." He's speaking about Andy.

"Will, how many times must I tell you? I don't love Jack Sparrow, nor do I love Andy. I love you." Will reaches forward with his strong arms and crushes me in an embrace. I take a deep breath, wanting to keep his scent forever in my mind. "Will I can't leave you. Not again. Not like this. How many times will we have to relive this moment? Because I don't want to. I want you here with me, to stay. I love you."

"And I you," he whispers softly, burrowing his face in my hair, "I love you Elizabeth."

"I'll miss you,"

"And I you," he response again, likewise attempting to keep tears out of his voice. We break apart, reluctantly, and helps lift me onto the dock, while he must stay in the little boat. "Keep a weather I on the horizon," he says once both my feet have hit the wood. He takes the chest from its perch in the longboat and places it at my feet.

"Marry me," I gasp falling onto my knees so I could be level with him, "The day you get back. Because technically we aren't still married from before and…"

Will's calloused hand takes hold of the back of my head and pushes my lips onto his. We kiss passionately until the urge to breathe splits us. I draw my lips inside my mouth and run my tongue over them, still wanting to taste his kiss. "Of course," he answers.

Thump-thump.

"I'll keep it safe this time, I promise."

"I trust you," Is all he says before he begins to row away, keeping his eyes locked on me. In order to keep my tears at bay I force my self not to look. Instead I pick up the chest and walk slowly to the end of the dock. Ten years, one day, two lifetimes. This isn't fair. Do you hear me Calypso? This isn't fair anymore! He's done his duty to you, and I've done mine! Why must you keep us separated still?

Thump-thump.

"Will," I drop the chest, turn, and run for the edge of the dock, "Will! Don't leave me! Come back! Come back, I love you! I love you, doesn't that men anything!?" my tears have finally escaped in harsh cries, "shouldn't that mean something?"

Will does not turn back. I watch my love and his ship disappear into the night, leaving no trace of their existence. Ten years. I sigh, ten more years.

* * *

it's not quite over yet...


	26. One Day

Chapter 26: One Day

_Will_

The Flying Dutchman is once again the lonely place it had been before Elizabeth's arrival. I miss her already. Ten more years of ferrying lost souls. Ten more years added to the two hundred or more I've already spent doing this duty. Elizabeth's cries from the dock do not make this separation any easier either. I want to be alone to collect my thoughts of her. That's why I sit in my cabin, trying my best not to focus on our parting but on the wedding we'll share the next time we meet.

"One lifetime is an awfully long time, isn't it?" Calypso coos as she suddenly appears in the middle of my cabin, "Yet compared ta two lifetimes, it can also be awfully short." She muses.

"What do you want from me this now? Have I not given you enough yet?" She smiles coyly, ignoring my frustration.

"Tell me William Turna', can ya bear ta be separated for one you love fer the whole of a lifetime?" She places a fist over her heart passionately as she speaks. What us she asking of me…. She smiles that coy smile of hers again, "Fer all o' her lifetime, till the day she die."

"What?" A sweat has broken on my forehead. I'm on the verge of a panic. Not see Elizabeth again? Not see her until her own death? "What about my one day? Every ten years I can go ashore for one day! Why are you taking that away from me?"

"Don' worry," she laughs, "dey'll be der when ya get back."

_

* * *

_

_Elizabeth_

The day of the funeral is a mockingly bright one. A crowd of people have gathered at our small island cemetery to say their final goodbyes two the three souls lost at sea during that storm, the story James told them. As the priest drones on about finding God and them being in better hands James and I and the only ones who know the truth. Jeffrey Norris, James' brother is the only one truly dead for us. He was not killed by a storm or rogue wave either, but by a murderous pirate with a penchant for dynamite. Across from me James stands with his parents, consoling his mother's tears. Andrew Durden was nearly killed by the point of a sword. He now resides as part of the crew of the Flying Dutchman, immortal for one hundred years. Andy's mother also cries, those his father keeps an unemotional composer, though I know inside it must bein g killing him that I'm the only one who returned and not his son. Ann Marrisol on the other hand is very much alive, going by the name Anamaria, a pirate aboard the Black Pearl. Her father stands quietly, swaying in a wave to rival Captain Sparrow with a brown paper back clutched in his fist. He hasn't shed a tear yet.

I stand alone, not really listening to the priest's final words. The sun is setting, and from where I stand I cannot see the horizon. The sun continues to sink from my view. I'm missing my daily ritual.

The priest finishes and the crowd begins to dissipate. As everyone makes their way to the grieving parents I stand still. I already offered them my condolences earlier. As the only survivor of this "tragedy" I was not received well. Nobody comes to me saying "I'm sorry for your loss," either. They were my friends as well.

"Fear not Miss Summerset," the raspy voice of the priest says beside me, I continue to watch the sky grow dark, "If it makes ya feel any better I know that they be in good hands now."

"I know," I say quietly, not wanting to go further with this conversation.

"I mean real good ones," he says enthusiastically, "as I'm sure ya know."

"Are you trying to tell me the hands of God?" I know where my friends really are.

"No Miss, that's what I was tryin' to tell that gullible lot." He rolls his eyes "You and I both know better then ta believe that always be the case. I'm certain the only reason why I found religion in this life was ta pay penance for my sins in the last one. God knows I'd rather be standin' anywhere but here," he jokes.

"So you lied to them?" he merely chuckles, "You know Father I recall one of the Ten Commandments being something along the lines of thou shall not lie."

"Ten Commandments you say? Well, I always figured them ta be more like _guidelines_ then actual rules. Good day, Mrs. Turner." I gasp.

"Barbossa?" he turns his head back to me as he keeps walking.

"No. I'm Father Hector, didn't ya hear?" He replies with a hint of humor, "I'll be seein' ya Mrs. Turner."

"It's Captain, actually," I say. He groans, rolling his eyes at the way I reminded him of his mortal enemy Captain Jack Sparrow.

With that Barbossa leaves me. So much has changed in the past few days. So much involving life and death and pirates. The girl everyone knew me to be, the girl I grew up as, no longer exists. I am Elizabeth Turner, Pirate King, forever and always. Even the island has changed. It's now missing three of it's residents, while three others secretly share the knowledge of once dealing in piracy. Or currently dealing, who knows what Barbossa will soon be up to. Nothing is the same as it used to be. Things that held meaning to me before seem useless now, and thing useless to me before are what I now hold dear. On my way to the cemetery I passed a little Chinese Restaurant where Andy took me on a date once. It's been closed down since I was there last. I remember receiving a fortune cookie there, "_The sun will never set on love or royalty"_. Perhaps there is some truth in that little slip of paper.

I begin to walk, not saying goodbyes to any. They'll hardly notice my absence now that I'm not in potential danger anymore. I walk down the quite street planning on bypassing the beach, seeing has the sun has nearly vanished, and continue straight to my little cottage. A cottage still practically in_ ruin_, bloody pirates, but a home no less.

Something bright flashes, catching in the corner of my eye. I stop and turn to spot it but it's already disappeared, along with the sun leaving the sky a velvety blue. A woman stands on the edge of the street watching me. She too is dressed all in black, with a hat obscuring my view of her face. We stand there, frozen and watching either for several minutes before either of us move. It's she who moves first, ever so slightly. I watch in fascination as a grin creeps across her face, revealing a blackened set of teeth and mouth.

"Calypso," I take a step closer, moving to cross the street between us. She containers by walking off in the other direction, toward the beach. She slips from view as she descends the small set of wooden stairs leading to the sand. I run down after her. My shoes slips from my feet when they hit the sand. There are no other recent footprints in that spot now but my own. The beach is empty.

"Calypso!" A yell down the sand, "Calypso!"

"Elizabeth," someone whispers softly behind me, paralyzing my body "What happened to keeping an eye on the horizon?"

I spin to find that I am not hallucinating. There he stands in his pirate attire, the wind playing gently with his open shirt and loose hair. His feet are buried in the sand by each wave that passes over them. His deep brown eyes match the smile dancing over his features, and the jagged scar on his chest has never looked so beautiful. My heart flutters, and new tears slip from my open eyes unable to blink.

"Will?" His grin widens.

"Over two hundred years at sea," he says, "one lifetime ashore...your lifetime Elizabeth."

"_Calypso…" he said without warning, the rest of his words were mumbled and I could barely understand him "Calypso…the…heart… Cal…lypso…will free…will…you will" his eyes glossed as he tried to deliver me his final message, "love you, Elizabeth."_

"Will," I whisper, still unable to move. Calypso set him free. She set him free for one lifetime. Will can stay for as long as I live. My heart pounds with joy, "Will!" He opens his arms wide as I leap at him. He catches and lifts me high as we spin in the sand, before lowering my lips to his. He keeps his arms locked around me tight as we kiss. You'd think it already been ten years since we saw each other last. I keep my lips pinned to his, unable to stop kissing him. I'm happy, happier then I've ever been, to have Will's arms around me once more.

"I love you," he breaths between kisses.

"And I you," I reply in the brief seconds our lips part.

Will pulls his lips away from mine abruptly, I move to follow but he holds me back. He lowers himself to the sand on one knee, grasping my hands tightly. "Elizabeth Turner," he laughs, by now we're both crying tears of happiness, "Will you marry me? Again?"

"Yes," I fall into the sand, throwing my arms around him once more. Again we kiss, and as we kiss I feel as though I can see everything in our bright future that lies ahead.

THE END


	27. Epilogue: A Call to All

Is this were a movie the credits would be here. So I'll use this space to thank all my readers and reviewers who put me in thoroughly giddy moods each time I read your

Fabulous reviews. Your reactions made this story worth finishing when writer's block took hold.

The Pirates of the Caribbean movies and video games belong to Disney and were created by Ted Elliot and Terry Rossio.

The ever so inspirational soundtracks belong to Klaus Badelt and Hans Zimmer.

Hope you all enjoyed Reincarnation.

Oh, and this:

Epilogue: A Call to All

_Elizabeth 2017_

Through the open kitchen window I can see Will a game of Frisbee with our son and his dog. Their laughter floats into our home with the sound of waves crashing against the beach and the smell of sea air.

"Mum," our second child stands before me, a bundle of flowers from the garden rest in her delicate hands, "Father Hector is here to see you."

Behind her Captain Hector Barbossa appears from the hall. With out saying a word he flicks a small object into the air just over my daughter's head. I catch it and study the familiar silver coin in my palm. Emanating from the coin is a subtle high pitched ring. My gaze lifts back to Barbossa standing proudly in my kitchen.

"It's been sung, your majesty."

FIN

Author's note: I'm currently wokring on giving you dear readers a new Resurrection, a better one!


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